The Dreams of a Queen
by kbrand5333
Summary: Post-season 5 Arwen fic, following Queen Guinevere. I'd say more, but there are major spoilers for season 5, so if you haven't seen it, you may want to wait to read this!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I promise no Gwen/Leon romance in this, because as far as I am concerned, that is heresy.**

**Special thanks to checktheczech for the cover image!**

When Gaius told her, she felt a flurry of emotions. Shock. Joy. Sadness. Anger. Fear.

Guinevere, Queen of Camelot, was with child.

Shock, because they had been trying for over three years with no results. She was beginning to fear that she was barren.

Joy, because she had something of Arthur left within her, something good and innocent and pure that would carry on his legacy.

Sadness, because Arthur was not with her.

Anger, because Arthur was not with her.

And fear, because she now not only has to run a kingdom alone, but she also has to raise a child alone.

Which brought on more anger.

xXx

The skill she acquired as a servant for keeping her emotions carefully schooled has proved invaluable in her role as queen. She spent so long hiding her feelings for Arthur that it almost comes second nature to keep her emotions buried deep in her heart, away from her face.

That was the only way she endured sitting on the throne hearing the cries of "Long live the queen" on the tails of Leon's declaration that "The king is dead."

That was the only way she endured endless council meetings in the weeks that followed, endless round table meetings with Arthur's seat left respectfully and conspicuously empty.

But at night, alone in her lonely chambers, she wept freely and openly, railing angrily at Arthur for letting himself get killed. Railing angrily at Merlin for not protecting him like he had promised.

And she knew that it was for just that reason that she hadn't seen Merlin in a month.

Each night she'd fall into an exhausted sleep on a tear-wet pillow, wearing one of Arthur's linen shirts as a nightdress. They smelled of him.

She was able to fool almost everyone. The people knew their queen was grieving and put on a brave face for them, but only those closest knew how much pain she felt.

Sir Leon. Sir Percival. Gaius.

Gaius would offer her calming herbs and sleeping draughts, which she stubbornly refused.

Sir Leon hardly left her side, taking his duties as First Knight of Camelot even more seriously now, taking over training, overseeing security, all the things that Arthur used to do for the knights, things that Gwen was not equipped to handle.

Sir Percival became an accidental confidante after one night when she had stumbled upon him in a corridor.

_"Percival?" Gwen asked quietly, having followed a strange sound to its surprising source._

_ The large knight was sitting on the floor in a forgotten corridor, weeping softly. He lifted his head, and Gwen could see how his eyes shone in the torchlight, and he made no move to hide his sorrow from her._

_ Without a word, Guinevere sat beside him and took his massive hand between both of hers. "I know," she said._

_ They had much in common, the tiny queen and the massive knight. Both commoners by birth. Both wise and gentle natures, but dangerous when crossed. Both had their families taken from them cruelly. And they both loved their brothers, Gwaine and Elyan. And Arthur…_

_ "Yeah," he whispered, his voice thick and hoarse. "I wish…"_

_ "Me, too."_

_ They sat quietly on the floor, Gwen leaning her head on his shoulder, feeling very small indeed._

_ "I don't understand," he finally said._

_ "Some things are not meant to be understood," Gwen answered with a sigh. "But it doesn't mean they aren't painful to bear. I feel like my heart has been torn from my chest, stomped on, shot with an arrow, run through with a sword, set on fire, and then stomped on again."_

_ Percival had laughed unexpectedly then, and Gwen couldn't help but laugh a little as well._

_ "I don't know that I feel quite_ that _bad, but it's close," Percival admitted. "Thank you for sitting with me, my lady."_

_ "Gwen," she corrected him. "If we are sitting here weeping together, then you may most definitely call me Gwen," she said, sniffling._

_ "Gwen," he repeats, and they both went silent again after that._

But nearly two months after the news of Arthur's death, Gwen sits, staring at Gaius as if he had grown a second head after he informed her that she was expecting.

"Gwen, are you all right?" Gaius asks.

"Of course I'm not all right!" she yells suddenly, causing Gaius to sit down in surprise. "I'm having Arthur's _baby_ and Arthur is _dead!_ Why would I be all right?"

"Gwen…" Gaius says, reaching for her hand.

"I know, I know," she says now, calmer. "It's not his fault. Well, it _is_ his fault, but…" She sits now as well. "My mind is spinning. I don't know how to feel."

"You can be happy, Gwen. It's all right to feel happiness over this news."

"I know. And I am happy. But I'm also sad and about fifteen other emotions."

"The child growing within you will not help that get any better, I'm afraid," Gaius says.

"Fantastic," Gwen replies glumly. "Arthur, you are not funny," she sighs.

"I will find a midwife to attend you," Gaius says decisively. "Until then, do try and rest. Try to get more sleep, for the child's sake."

Gwen looks up at him, a little surprised that he knows.

"Are you still crying yourself to sleep every night?" he asks gently.

She sighs, pressing her lips together. "Not every night."

Gaius gives her an eyebrow, and she sighs again.

"Where the hell is Merlin, anyway?" she asks, suddenly irritated. The one person that would be truly joyous over this news outside of herself and Arthur, and he hasn't shown his face since Camlann.

"I don't know, Gwen. I wish I did. I cannot imagine what he must be feeling," Gaius says sadly.

"Unfortunately, I can," Gwen says, standing. "I hope he returns at some point."

"I think he may be afraid to return, my lady."

"Why?"

"I think he's afraid of you. I don't think he can face you."

"I'm… unreasonably angry with him, yes, but I can't get rid of that anger unless I see him. And I miss him."

"I miss him, too, Gwen."

"I know it wasn't really his fault. I know he did everything he could. He loved Arthur like a brother."

"We both know Merlin well, Gwen. He is blaming himself for Arthur's death more than any of us are."

Gwen drops her head. "I know."

"Go get some rest. No wine, no mead. Just water. When I find a suitable midwife, I'll let you know."

"Yes, yes, I know," she says, nodding. "And thank you, Gaius." She exits his rooms and heads back to her own.

_Arthur, you are not funny at all,_ she thinks again.

xXx

Gwen sinks down in the chair beside Arthur's desk – her desk – and sighs heavily. She pulls the royal seal from a hidden pocket, something she's had sewn into all her gowns now, and turns it over and over in her fingers.

It is the symbol of her power, but it is also the last thing Arthur gave her, and she finds that she toys with it often just because of that.

_And you are the second to last thing he gave me,_ she thinks, one hand moving to rest on her stomach. _I think._

Her eyes drift around the room, finding that she's mentally cataloging every place, every surface in this chamber they'd christened with their lovemaking, wondering when exactly the child was conceived.

_The bed, of course, many times. The chest at the end of the bed. This desk,_ she looks down at the desk, running her hand across the wood. _The floor, there and there, and… there. The table. His chair. The window ledge. In front of the fireplace. Against that wall. And that wall. Against the wardrobe._

They had been very busy indeed, especially since Morgana's enchantment had been lifted from them. _That was the one time I was relieved to have my monthly since we'd been married. I don't know what I would have done had a child been conceived during that time,_ she thinks, leaning on the desk now, lacing her fingers together to rest her chin there.

_If it wasn't that night in the tent, then… the week before, perhaps,_ she thinks, counting back, finding that the simple mundane quality of trying to nail down when the event happened soothes her somewhat.

_"Come. We must rest while we can," she said, gently taking his hands in hers. He gazed down at her then with such fire in his eyes that she immediately knew that rest was the last thing on his mind. Then he had stooped and swept her up into his arms, as has been his habit lately, and carried her to the bed._

_ It was a narrower bed then their bed here in the castle, but Gwen did not mind it; it just meant that they got to sleep closer to each other. Not that they didn't normally sleep spooned tightly together, but it was just different, more intimate, to be forced that close._

_ Arthur had descended over her almost immediately, his practiced fingers unlacing her gown and it was only moments before she was naked beneath him and he was kissing what felt like every inch of her skin._

_ It was almost as if he knew that this would be his last opportunity._

_ "Arthur, you are still dressed," Gwen had chided him. "No fair."_

_ "No fair?" he repeated, amused, lifting his head from where his tongue was exploring her navel. "Well, we cannot have that," he said, sliding off of her and shedding his clothes almost as quickly as he had undressed her. "Better?" he had purred at her._

_ "Much," she answered, running her hands up and down his back, feeling the familiar contours of his muscles beneath his warm skin, winding her legs around his, tangling them together._

_ "Something about being with you in a tent," Arthur muttered, his lips on her neck. "Ever since that kiss where you saved me from Vivian…"_

_ "And the tournament where you were Sir William," she whispered._

_ He lifted his head. "That was before the enchantment."_

_ "I know. You're going to get hung up on details now?"_

_ Arthur shrugged and Gwen smiled at him, pulling his face to hers so that she could kiss him._

_ "And the tournament celebrating our first anniversary," he added, and she giggled then._

_ "We almost got caught that time."_

_ "I know, but that's what made it fun," he said, his eyes twinkling at her for a moment before he captured her lips once more._

_ His kisses were sweet but ardent that night, full of longing and love. His lips continue their slow circuit of her body, tasting her with his kisses, sucking at her pliant flesh until Gwen was pink and flushed all over with desire._

_ "Arthur," she spoke his name, a plea, while she spread her knees apart further for him. Arthur, knowing his wife's body as well as his own, needed no further entreaty, climbing between those welcoming thighs and slipping swiftly and easily into her with a groan._

_ "Oh…" Gwen breathed, arching beneath him when he started to move, slowly, languidly, as if time were of no consequence. He leaned forward and closed his lips over an erect nipple, worshiping it with his tongue and teeth, drawing little whimpers and cries from her._

_ Gwen's fingers tangled in his hair, caressed his face, his neck, his shoulders, feeling each slight ridge from his scar-riddled torso beneath their sensitive tips. She traced them lightly, raising gooseflesh on his skin as she did so, her touch magical to him._

_ "Guinevere," he muttered against her skin, "I love you so much. More than anything in this or any world. Never forget that."_

At the time she hadn't thought anything of his words. It wasn't unusual for him to profess his love for her while they coupled; in fact, he did so each time, often repeatedly. Later, the words came back to haunt her. Now, they make perfect sense.

_Spent and sated, he had collapsed over her, his head on her shoulder, still sheathed within her warmth._

_ "Am I crushing you?" he had asked quietly._

_ "No," she had answered truthfully._

_ "I want to stay here," he confessed then, and she threaded her fingers into his hair and turned her face to kiss his forehead, and they dozed, joined, for a time._

_ Gwen woke up a short time later feeling slightly sweaty and somewhat… needful. As she blinked her eyes open, she realized that they still hadn't moved, were still joined, and that Arthur's manhood was growing stiff within her._

_ She closed her eyes again and sighed, the sensation new and intriguing and inflammatory, and she moved her hand in his hair._

_ "Mmm," Arthur stirred, moving his head up to kiss her neck. "More," he mumbled, and began to slowly move again, sliding out slightly, then back in, his renewed ardor drawing him from his slumber until he was fully awake and thrusting, deep and hard, and Gwen was crying out with each thrust until she was certain that she would burst into flame and spark and become one with the stars._

xXx

Guinevere sits and stares, lost in her reverie, idly wondering if this child is a cruel joke played on her by the gods or a wonderful blessing.

In the end, she decides it is a blessing wrapped in a cruel joke, something good and innocent to come out of this tragedy.

She sighs heavily, leaning forward over the desk again, on her hands.

"Just because you have always been prepared to die for your kingdom, Arthur, doesn't mean that I was prepared to let you go," Gwen whispers, fresh tears falling from her eyes. She drops her head into her hands, covering her face.

"Gwen?" a soft, familiar voice timidly calls her name, and she freezes, afraid to look up.


	2. Chapter 2

"Merlin?" Gwen gasps, blinking her eyes and wiping her face.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Gwen," he says, his voice soft, almost inaudible.

She stands and walks to him. "Sorry? You're _sorry?_" she exclaims. "You were supposed to protect him! You were supposed to take care of him, make him better!" she shouts, tears starting anew, and she realizes she is pummeling his thin chest with her clenched fists.

"You were supposed to bring him home to me!" she sobs, pounding him mercilessly.

He makes no move to stop her, as he knows he deserves every blow he receives. Finally she collapses against him, and he brings his arms around her, holding her as she weeps against his chest.

"Sorry," she mumbles, resting her forehead against him now.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for, Gwen," Merlin says. "I failed you, and I do not deserve your forgiveness."

"You already have it, Merlin," she says, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him in a tight hug.

"Thank you," he breathes, his rigid body melting as he squeezes her in return, his own tears falling onto the top of her head.

Merlin's hands rest on her back, holding her gently. "Gwen?" he asks, sounding just slightly startled by something.

"You're taller than Arthur," she notes absently, pulling back and looking up at him. His eyes are as red-rimmed and bleary as hers. Merlin moves his hand then, around to her stomach.

"There is life within you," he whispers, his voice awe-struck. "I can feel it."

"You sound surprised," she says dumbly.

"I'm surprised that I can tell," he blinks down at her, dropping his hand.

"I was surprised as hell that I am at all," she answers, walking to the table and sitting.

"Timing, hey?" Merlin sits down beside her at the table. There is a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Gwen calls, her voice a sigh.

The door creaks open. "My lady, will you be taking lunch in – Merlin!" the serving girl gasps, seeing Merlin sitting there with the queen.

He waves, but says nothing.

"Yes, please bring lunch for both myself and Merlin, here, Lily, thank you," Gwen answers.

"Yes, my lady."

"Lily?" Gwen calls after her, staying her. "One moment." She turns to Merlin. "Who knows you are in Camelot?"

"No one," he answers, giving her a tight look indicating that is not looking for a reunion at this time with anyone other than her.

"Lily, tell only Sir Leon of Merlin's presence here, and impress upon him that he is to keep the news to himself. And tell him I wish to remain undisturbed. I have much to discuss with Merlin and I do not wish to be interrupted."

"Yes, my lady," Lily bobs another curtsey and scurries away.

"Gwen…" Merlin protests.

"Merlin," Gwen turns back to him, "I want to know. I _need_ to know."

"I know," he answers, his voice breaking.

"So talk."

xXx

By the time Merlin finishes the tale, they are both crying and their food is hardly touched.

"Gwen," Merlin sniffs, "please eat. For the baby, you need to eat."

Gwen sullenly stabs a green bean and puts it in her mouth, finding it cold. "Cold," she grumbles. "Where is Arthur now?"

"Avalon," Merlin says. "It is a place of deep, ancient magic. It is written that he will return when Camelot needs him most."

"Where is that written?"

"Where is _anything_ written, Gwen?" Merlin sighs, gesturing vaguely. "So many things are prefaced with 'it is written,' but no one ever sees that writing."

Gwen almost laughs at him. "When Camelot needs him most, hmm? What about his wife, bearing his child? Does that count for nothing?"

Merlin sighs and squeezes her hand. "Gwen, I came back for two reasons. The first was to see you and face you, like a man, and own up to my failure," he sighs, still tremendously grieved by the loss of Arthur.

"And the other?"

"I have something for you," he says, releasing her hand and reaching into his satchel.

"When I left Camelot, when I didn't accompany Arthur to Camlann, it was because Morgana had found a creature that robbed me of my magic, rendering me unable to help him," he says, digging into the bag.

"Did Morgana know about you?"

"Mordred told her. After he left here, he fled to her side, blinded by his own grief and fury."

"He could not see what Kara had become," Gwen says, shaking her head sadly.

"Love will do that," Merlin says absently, still digging. "Morgana had been searching for 'Emrys' for years. Mordred was able to solve that mystery for her."

"He knew? Mordred knew?"

"Of course he did. He was a Druid, Gwen, and he had magic himself. But that is another tale for another time," Merlin says. He has something in his hand now, something small, but Gwen cannot see it. He is not ready to reveal it yet.

"Anyway, Gwaine accompanied me to the mouth of a cave leading to a place I had been to once before, said to be the source of all magic. I intended to go there to restore my gift."

"Obviously it worked," Gwen says, smiling.

"Yes. It was never really gone, in fact. But I did have help," he smiles wistfully.

"Who helped you?"

"My father."

"I thought you didn't know your father," Gwen furrows her brows.

"Remember the dragonlord Arthur and I searched for?"

"Yes, he died, if I recall."

"He was my father. I did not know until just before Arthur and I set out."

"I am sorry, Merlin. To finally meet him, only to lose him… that must have been heartbreaking."

"It was. He appeared to me in this place, though, and helped me find my way again. You would have liked him very much, Gwen. He was wise and gentle, like you," Merlin sighs sadly.

"What is this place called?" she asks.

"They call it the Crystal Cave. It is filled with large crystals, and if you gaze into them you will see many things. Past, present, possible futures: things that may or may not come to pass."

"Oh, my."

"It is both fascinating and dangerous. A person could get lost entirely down there, gazing into the crystals."

"I can imagine."

He opens his hand, and there is a small crystal sitting on his palm. "This is but a tiny crystal from that cave. I would like you to have it," he says.

"I… I couldn't…"

"It is too small to be of any harm to you, Gwen, I promise. I would never give you anything that would hurt you," he whispers.

"I know that, but… to possess a magical item like this…"

"So you plan on keeping the ban on magic?" he asks, closing his hand around the crystal again.

"No," she sighs. "I've been giving it a lot of thought. I'm going to lift it. I think. It seems… right that I should do this."

"It is. Remember that magic itself is not evil, Gwen, only people can be evil."

"I know that."

"So you will accept my gift?"

"Yes, Merlin, I will."

Merlin stares down at his closed fist, lifting it to his lips for a moment and closing his eyes. He whispers a word against his fingers and Gwen watches, transfixed, as his eyes flash gold.

Merlin opens his palm again, and the crystal is wrapped in silver filigree and hanging from a silver chain. He stands and affixes it around Gwen's neck, and she lifts her hair over it. It settles against her skin, the metal cool and oddly comforting against her neck.

"Do not take it off," Merlin says. "Not to sleep, not to bathe. This crystal… how can I say this to not put you off? It _wants_ to be with you."

Gwen's hand closes over it where it is nestled against her bosom, and she is surprised to find that the crystal is warm. She nods, saying nothing. _It is an odd request, but somehow I feel… better… with it on. My heart feels a fraction lighter._

"The silver will not tarnish; the chain will not accidentally strangle you in your sleep," he finishes.

Merlin squeezes her shoulder comfortingly, and picks up his satchel.

"You're going?" she asks, turning.

"I cannot stay, Gwen. Not now. Perhaps not ever. I don't know yet."

_Without Arthur, he has no direction,_ she realizes. "Please tell me you will come back, Merlin, even if not permanently. I've lost Arthur forever, I cannot lose you as well," she pleads, tears in her eyes.

"I'll be around," he promises, wiping her tears away. She hugs him tightly, her head against his chest. "You can do this, Gwen," he whispers. "You will bring Camelot to its glory. Finish Arthur's work."

She leans up and kisses his cheek. "Thank you, Merlin. I love you, and so did Arthur. Remember that."

"I know, Gwen. I will never be far away," he promises. He sniffs once, and Gwen sees a tear escape from his eye just before he sweeps from the room.

xXx

_"Guinevere." The voice is distant, but clear as a bell._

_ "Guinevere."_

Queen Guinevere turns in her sleep, her hands reaching out for someone who is no longer there. They close around his pillow and draw it to her chest.

_"Guinevere," the voice is louder, more insistent._

_ Gwen is walking in an empty, bare white room, approaching a door._

_ "Open the door, my love."_

_ She reaches out and places her palm flat on the wood. It is warm, like her crystal, and the barest touch swings it open._

_ Gwen steps forward, through the open door, blinking as her eyes adjust to the dim light beyond. There is a figure before her._

_ "Arthur…" she breathes. She wants to rush to him, into his arms, to squeeze him to her and never let go again, but she finds she is rooted to the spot._

_ "Guinevere," he steps closer, smiling. He looks beautiful and whole, clad in his white tunic and black trousers, his belt hanging at his hips. No heavy and harsh chainmail, no restrictive armor. Not even a sword. Just Arthur, as she loved him best: soft; accessible._

_ "Is this a dream?" she finally says._

_ "Yes and no," he shrugs, his eyes dropping to the crystal hanging at her cleavage._

_ "Merlin," she guesses, and Arthur nods._

_ "That crystal," he nods at it, "that crystal was born when I landed here, in Avalon."_

_ "This is Avalon?" Gwen looks around, frowning, unimpressed._

_ "This is a gateway, Guinevere," he says. "Your world is back there, through that door," he points at the door through which she entered, the light pouring in from it their only light source._

_ She glances back at it a moment. "Where is your door?"_

_ "You cannot see it," he says, looking over his left shoulder. "To keep you from following me through, I guess."_

_ "But I would like to follow you through it," Gwen says, taking a step closer._

_ "No, Guinevere," he says sadly, holding his hand up. "It's not yet your time."_

_ "Can you follow me back, then?"_

_ "No. It's not yet my time."_

_ "You sound like Merlin," she says suddenly, squinting at him._

_ Arthur laughs. "I have learned a lot since I've been here. And you can't follow me into Avalon, my love. Not yet."_

_ "But one day?"_

_ "Yes, one day. Just not now. Definitely not now," he says, raising his eyebrows at her._

_ "You know," she whispers._

_ "Of course I know," he says simply. "I put him there, didn't I?" he grins._

_ "Him?" she gasps, her hands on her stomach._

_ "Him," Arthur nods, the pride evident on his face. "Guinevere, I'm sorry," he says, his face falling._

_ "For getting me pregnant?" she puzzles._

_ "For dying on you," he sighs. "I know… I know it was always your greatest fear, every time I went to battle or out on a quest or even a hunting trip."_

_ "You did what you had to do for your kingdom," she whispers, looking down, ashamed at the selfishness of her grief._

_ "My kingdom is nothing without my queen," he tells her. "Merlin blames himself for my death, I know this now. But what he does not know is that I do not blame him, I blame myself."_

_ "I blame Morgana," Gwen says. "It was her hand that guided Mordred's, it was she…"_

_ "My hand should have been the one to guide Mordred's!" Arthur interrupts. "I failed him."_

_ "No, Arthur, he failed you. He was blinded, he could not see what was right in front of him."_

_ "Neither could I," Arthur says quietly. "Merlin. All those years," he chuckles suddenly. "It's almost funny. Well, it would be funny if I didn't come off looking like a blind idiot."_

_ "You are being too hard on yourself, Arthur," Gwen says._

_ "Oh? What did you say when he told you?"_

_ "He did not tell me," she admits._

_ "Gaius, then?"_

_ "Not exactly. I kind of… drew the conclusion myself based on recent events and some evasive comments from Gaius."_

_ "You see? This is what I mean. This is why you must go back. Guinevere, you are smarter than I ever could have been. You are able to see what is in front of you for what it is. It is one of the many reasons I love you so much," he sighs._

_ "I always knew Merlin was special," she says quietly. "I just had no idea how special."_

_ "None of us did. Except perhaps Gaius."_

_ "I've missed you," Gwen says suddenly._

_ "And I, you," he answers, smiling, remembering another time when these words were exchanged between them, bittersweet and passionate. Only this time there is no narrow cot, no bandaged ribs, no desperate embrace. This time they stand, face to face, gazing at one another, afraid to move._

_ "But I am always with you, my love," he adds, pointing to the crystal again. "As I said, that small shard was born in the cave when I came here. It called to Merlin, told him to come retrieve it."_

_ "Merlin said that… it wanted to be with me," she whispers._

_ "Yes," Arthur says, "it does. I do. That crystal is my heart, and it is meant to rest beside yours, always."_

_ Gwen feels tears wetting her cheeks now. "Merlin told me not to take it off, ever. And I won't, I promise."_

_ "Thank you," he breathes, sounding strangely relieved._

_ "I don't actually think that I could if I wanted to," she says, fingering the chain, finding no clasp._

_ "Tricky wizard," Arthur mumbles, smirking. "Is… is he all right?"_

_ "I don't know. I think he feels lost right now. We all do, to varying degrees. He's devoted his life to you, Arthur, and now he has no direction, no purpose."_

_ "Tell him I'm sorry," Arthur frowns._

_ "He's gone," Gwen whispers._

_ "He left?" Arthur is incredulous._

_ "Not forever," she soothes, knowing he's upset not because Merlin left, but because he left her alone._

_ Arthur looks over his shoulder and scowls. "It's time, Guinevere. You have to go back."_

_ "Already?"_

_ "Yes, it is nearly sunrise. You have a kingdom to run, my love."_

_ "I will finish your work, Arthur," she promises._

_ "I know you will. And make sure you eat," he adds. "I want my baby to be healthy."_

_ "Still giving orders," she sighs._

_ "I love you," he tells her, and she notices he is fading, his color, less vibrant, his lines, less defined._

_ "I love you, Arthur," she says, "with all my heart."_

_ "With all my heart," he repeats, and she turns and walks back through the door, into the whiteness._


	3. Chapter 3

"That is my decision," Guinevere states, looking out over the council. There are murmurs of dissent, anger, and disbelief, but she waits patiently until they all die down.

"My lady, are you certain this is wise?" Lord Chadwick finally speaks up. "After all, magic is what was responsible for the king's death."

Gwen rises from her seat and the council members note for the first time that she does not appear as slender as she normally does and that her dress is more flowing around her middle then is her normal habit.

"Lord Chadwick, I do not need to be reminded how my husband died, thank you," she says tersely. "However, what you may not realize is that magic is also responsible for saving both Arthur and this kingdom many times over. We all owe a debt of gratitude to one person who was by Arthur's side to the end. This person happens to be a great sorcerer and was also the king's closest friend."

More murmurs of disbelief as they figure out to whom she is referring.

"The least we can do," she says, her voice rising above the grumbling, "is repay this person by allowing him to finally be free to be who he is. My job here is to continue Arthur's work and I believe that this was a part of the path he was on."

"My lady," Lord Chadwick says, ever persistent, "perhaps you should wait to make such a declaration until a later time?"

"Whatever for?" she asks, turning to face him.

"Well," he starts, "you're yet in mourning, and also, in my experience, ladies who are with child do not always think as clearly as they should."

Leon's hand moves to the hilt of his sword, but Gwen holds up her hand, staying him. "I have given this matter much thought these past several months, and this was not a decision I reached in haste."

"But surely…" Chadwick argues. A few of the other lords are surreptitiously trying to get him to shut up now; others are looking anywhere except Gwen or Chadwick.

"Are you implying that I am not in my right mind?" she asks coldly, lifting her chin.

"Well, no, my lady, it's just…"

"Lord Chadwick," she cuts him off, "tell me, I'm curious: what experience do you exactly have with pregnant women who are in mourning?" she asks, angling her head to the side. "From what I understand, you prefer the company of men. Specifically, Lord Reginald, if memory serves."

Several men around the table have to bite back their snickers as she sinks gracefully back to her seat. "The Proclamation will go out tomorrow," she says firmly.

"My lady," Lord Jasper says quietly, "is Chadwick correct? I mean about your being with child?"

"Yes," Gwen answers, nodding slightly. She looks around the table and notices that many of the Council look uncomfortable, as if they have a question that they are afraid to ask.

She straightens her shoulders. "The child is Arthur's, before any of you ask. I can see it on your faces. The midwife and Gaius can both confirm the time of conception, if you don't believe my word," she snaps. "The council is adjourned." She stands and turns, striding past Leon's offered arm and sweeping from the room before most of the Council members even have a chance to get to their feet.

xXx

"My lady," Leon calls after her, jogging. He catches her up easily, his legs being twice as long as hers.

"Idiots," she mumbles crossly, striding furiously to her rooms. "Narrow minded, sexist idiot pigs. Not you, Leon."

"I know," he says. "My lady, you need to calm down and slow down. Please." He offers his arm again, and this time she takes it.

"I mean it was bad enough that Chadwick questioned my mental state, but the accusatory looks they gave me when I confirmed that I was with child," she pauses, looking down. "As if I _needed_ to tell them; it's right _here._"

"Well, the black gown does make it a little difficult to discern," he says, and immediately regrets it when she shoots him a look that would make a dragon flee with its tail between its legs. "Sorry," he mutters.

"Honestly, the fact that they would even question… I mean, who did they think the father would be? You?" she sputters incredulously.

Leon coughs, choking on his own surprise as she shoves her door open and stomps to a chaise she's had brought in, sinking down onto it. It's the only place beside her bed where she can sit comfortably lately. The babe is not yet very large, but her petite stature is working against her.

"My lady?" Leon finally manages, awaiting instruction.

"See that the scribes have finished the proclamations and that they are posted at first light," she sighs, leaning back and closing her eyes. "Give them a careful read before you post them to make sure that it is very clear that the abuse of magic will still be punishable to the full extend of the law."

"Of course," he nods.

"And please find Lily and tell her I will take my dinner in here tonight." Gwen opens her eyes and glances further into her rooms. "For two," she adds.

"You are expecting someone?" Leon asks.

"He's already here, Leon," Gwen says, pointing vaguely in Merlin's direction. He emerges from where he was standing, behind the desk near the bed, looking out the window.

"Ah. Hello, Merlin. Shall I keep your presence here to myself again?"

"Hello, Leon, and no, I'll not be secretive this time. I've already seen Gaius, in fact, thank you."

"Always good to see you," Leon smiles. "My lady," he nods at Gwen and exits.

"So Merlin, to what do I owe this surprise?" Gwen asks, starting to stand.

"Don't get up, Gwen, please," Merlin says, pulling a chair over to sit beside her. "I know what you did today."

"It needed to be done," she says.

"Did you do it for me?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I'd be lying if I said you had nothing to do with it," she admits. "Camelot owes you a great debt, several times over, if I am guessing correctly."

"Yet I still let Camelot down in the end," he sighs.

"Merlin, you must stop blaming yourself," Gwen says, reaching her hand out to clasp his.

A knock at the door interrupts them. "Yes?" she calls, and the door opens.

"Gwen, is everything all right? I heard about the council meeting, and—Merlin!" Percival comes rushing in, talking immediately; stopping short when he sees her sitting with Merlin.

"Hello, Percival," he says, standing and extending his hand, but Percival grabs him and crushes him in an immense hug.

Merlin makes a noise somewhere between a wheeze and a gurgle, and Percival releases him. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Percival, everything is fine," Gwen addresses the knight's original question. "Lord Chadwick was being a bit of a pain in the… backside about things, but in the end I managed to make him see my side of things."

"And by that she means she essentially told him to shut it and she would do what she will because she's the queen," Merlin adds. Gwen rolls her eyes.

"Were you there?" Percival asks, interested.

"No, but I'm a good guesser."

"I wish I could have been there," Percival scowls.

"Percival, someone has to train the men, you know. And it was Leon's turn to attend the council meeting," Gwen says gently. "Percival and Leon take turns attending me at council," she explains to Merlin. "Apparently they take my security very seriously."

"You are our queen and our friend, my lady," Percival says loyally. "And nothing is happening to that baby on our watch."

Merlin smiles. _She is being well cared-for. Good._

"But I am interrupting," Percival says, turning back to the door. "Merlin, don't be a stranger."

"Nice to see you, too, Percival," Merlin calls after him.

"Merlin," Gwen says, beckoning him back to his chair, and he sits. "Arthur told me to tell you that he is sorry."

Merlin smiles. "It worked, then. You got to see him."

"Yes. And he doesn't blame you for his death. He blames himself, actually."

He shakes his head, disagreeing. "No," he whispers, "it was my failure, not his."

"He thinks that he failed Morgana and Mordred. He was shocked that you weren't staying in Camelot, and said he's sorry for leaving you with no direction in your life anymore."

"No," Merlin persists. "It wasn't him! I was the one who failed! I was warned; I _saw_ it, and I allowed it to happen! Everything I did to try and stop it… only seemed to encourage it…" Tears are rolling down the wizard's cheeks now.

"Merlin, what are you talking about?" Gwen asks gently.

"Gwen, there is so much you don't know," he says softly. "I have such regrets. Not about anything with Arthur, no, but… decisions I made, thinking I knew better, when I was told otherwise, things I did that could not be undone…"

Gwen waits, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hand absentmindedly reaches up for her crystal, stroking it between her fingers, drawing comfort from it.

"Hindsight is very clear," he explains. "I know it does no good to think about what I would have done differently, but…"

"Yes, Merlin?"

"I have two regrets. Two things that, had I the power, I would go back and do otherwise in an _instant._" He pinches his eyes closed, clearly pained by what he is about to tell her.

Gwen takes his hand again, holding it gently.

"First, I would have told Arthur sooner. Before he was on death's door."

"When?"

"That, I don't know. Perhaps years, perhaps weeks. I could have possibly prevented his death if I had confessed everything and told him of the prophecies revealed to me."

"If he would have listened," Gwen adds knowingly.

"_If_ he would have let me live after learning the truth."

"I would not have let him execute you, Merlin."

Merlin sighs. "I know that, Gwen." He pauses, then continues. "Perhaps when he acquired that horn, the one with which he accidentally let Uther back into this world."

"I'd really rather not relive that incident," Gwen says, frowning.

"I'm sorry. But he was so… receptive to magic then. He saved that woman from being executed for suspicion of using sorcery."

"And he used magic himself, when he blew that blasted horn," Gwen muses thoughtfully.

Merlin nods. "If not then, then perhaps when I freed you from Morgana's enchantment."

"When _you_ freed me?" Gwen looks at him, raising her eyebrows.

"Um… yeah," Merlin says slowly, looking rather embarrassed now.

Light dawns on Gwen. "That strange sorceress… that was you."

Merlin nods, his mouth a tight line.

There is a soft knock at the door, and Gwen bids Lily enter with their dinner. Merlin helps her to her feet and sits with her at the table again.

"Well, that certainly explains a lot about her," Gwen says dryly, and Merlin actually laughs a little. He pours water for them both.

"But you're right, Merlin, that would have been an opportune time to tell Arthur."

"I know. If I had lifted the curse as _me,_ he would have seen magic used for good, to help the one person in this world that meant more to him than anything."

Gwen smiles sadly, looking down at her plate. _This was Arthur's favorite meal,_ she notes.

"I'm serious, Gwen, if… if we hadn't been able to bring you out of that enchantment… I think Arthur would have just let you kill him."

"Merlin…"

"Honestly. He was despondent."

"I know," she whispers, the memories fuzzy but dark and painful nevertheless.

"I could have done so much more to prevent his death if I had been allowed to be who I truly am, openly, in his presence," Merlin says with a sigh. "This was his favorite," he adds, looking at his plate, poking his capon with his fork.

"I know, I was just thinking that," Gwen says. "And what is your second regret?"

Merlin sets his fork down and looks straight at her. "I should have let Morgana die when I had the chance. Years ago."

"What?" Gwen asks, shocked.

Merlin explains, telling her how he was the one who caused Morgana to topple down the stairs, trying to stop her from killing Uther in his sleep.

"And then I saved her life. I was warned against it. I was told in no uncertain terms to _let her die._" He stops again, regret washing over him.

"Who told you this?" Gwen asks softly.

"The Great Dragon. He lives. Arthur did not kill him, he lives and he is my friend. Remember my father, the dragonlord?"

Gwen nods, her eyes wide.

"When he died, the power passed to me. So even though the dragon told me to let Morgana die, I ordered him to give me the power to heal her."

"Why, Merlin? If you knew she was evil even then, why didn't you just let her die?" Gwen whispers.

"Because it was killing _me_ to see you and Arthur grieve so! Even Uther! I could not sit by and let you all suffer when I could do something about it!" he exclaims, the weight of his actions fully hitting him now. "And in the end, I caused a great deal more suffering." He drops his head into his hands.

"I had no way to prove to you that Morgana had turned, not without my magic," Merlin goes on. "And there was nothing in this world that would have made me tell Arthur I had magic while Uther yet lived."

"He may have believed you if you had tried to tell him about Morgana," Gwen says.

"Gwen…"

"Yes, I knew that was incorrect as soon as it was out of my mouth," she smirks.

They poke at their food for a bit, quietly. Merlin watches Gwen surreptitiously, trying to judge her mood.

"You're not angry with me?" he asks suddenly and quietly.

"No, Merlin, I'm not angry with you," she says, tossing her napkin on the table. "Did you forget I was also a servant, Merlin? I know what it is like to feel powerless, to have knowledge of things about which you can do nothing."

"Of course I didn't forget that."

"I feel heartbroken for you, Merlin. You have borne this burden for so long, alone save for Gaius."

"Gaius usually tried to stop me, too. He was right about half the time," Merlin shrugs, and Gwen giggles softly at this.

"Gwen, you asked me why I was here today," Merlin says, switching gears. "And I got distracted talking about Arthur again."

Gwen smiles. "He will like that."

Merlin rolls his eyes. "I came because I am concerned about your making magic legal."

"The practice of dark or harmful magic will still be punishable by death, Merlin."

"Yes, of course. But you are carrying Arthur's heir, and even though Morgana is dead…"

"Merlin, the other four kingdoms have sent messages of condolences over Arthur's loss. The Saxons have retreated with their tails between their legs now that Morgana is defeated. I think you may be worrying needlessly."

"I am concerned for your well-being, Gwen."

"You are growing paranoid."

Merlin says nothing.

"Have you had any visions? Prophecies? Warnings?"

"No. But…"

"Stay here in Camelot, then," she challenges.

"I… I can't…" he croaks. She knew he would not stay, and does not press.

She cocks her head to the side. "Where _have_ you been these past few months?"

"With the Druids," he says. "Learning. Trading skills. They are pleased with you, Gwen. They think you are an excellent queen, because you know that value truly lies within, not without."

"That is good to know," Gwen says, and an idea occurs to her. She files it away for now.

Merlin studies her a moment. "The dragon wants to meet you," he says suddenly.

"What?"

"The dragon. Kilgarrah. He requests audience with the queen."

"This is why you've really come."

"Perhaps. Get your cloak."

xXx

"Pardon my appearance, my lady, I am, sadly, in my last days in this world," the dragon apologizes immediately, bowing his head to Guinevere.

"You are magnificent, Kilgarrah," she says, curtseying to him, her voice full of awe. "You're so… large."

Kilgarrah chuckles warmly at this last, "Ah, Guinevere, the great Queen of Camelot, yet still the simple maid in so many ways," he says, his great eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

"He doesn't mean simple like simpleminded," Merlin starts to explain, and Gwen cuts him off.

"I know exactly what he meant, Merlin," she says, smiling up at the dragon.

"It pleases me that you have kept your head, my lady," the dragon says. "It is your connection to your people that makes you a great queen."

"Thank you," Gwen whispers. _I don't know if I would use the word 'great,'_ she thinks.

Kilgarrah raises his head and looks down at her, slight surprise on his reptilian face. "You doubt your greatness?" he asks.

She blinks. "You can read my thoughts?" she gasps.

"I can read your face, my lady," he chuckles. "You are good at veiling your feelings from many, but you cannot hide from me."

Gwen sighs. "Very well. Yes, I do not know that I would call myself a great queen."

Merlin smiles knowingly.

"Ah, and that is one of the reasons why you are, Guinevere," Kilgarrah says. "You strive always to be better. You are not complacent. It is a quality young Arthur also had."

"Yes," she whispers, nodding slightly. "He was always endeavoring to be better, stronger, wiser."

"Indeed, and choosing you as his queen was one of the wisest decisions he made."

"I thought you said that it was her destiny," Merlin says, puzzling.

"Well, yes, young warlock, Guinevere's destiny was always to be Arthur's queen, and it always shall be so. However, as you now know, destiny can be fickle and is often shrouded in mystery."

"Arthur," Gwen says, understanding. "Arthur's destiny was to be the greatest king the land has known."

"Arthur's destiny was to restore magic to Camelot and unite the lands of Albion. It was never foretold that he would achieve these things _directly,_" Kilgarrah clarifies. "His death was unfortunate, but it was the catalyst for you, Queen Guinevere, to fulfill these goals."

"Arthur was a great king, but without his queen to guide him, he may not have achieved half of what he did," he continues. "Camelot enjoyed several years of peace and prosperity under his reign. But it is your time now, my lady. You will finish what he has started. The proclamation you will post tomorrow is the first step."

Gwen nods sadly, clasping her hands over her stomach. There is a slight flutter beneath her hands as she feels her child move for the first time. She gasps and looks at Merlin.

"Your son is healthy and strong," Kilgarrah says. "In time, he will be a great ruler like his father and his mother before him."

"Thank you," Gwen says, running her hand over her belly now, searching for more movement.

"I should like to bless your child, if you would allow me," Kilgarrah says, lowering his head.

"I… I would be honored, Kilgarrah," she says, stepping forward, towards him.

"Come close, close enough to touch," the dragon says, dropping his body now to rest his head on the ground, groaning slightly as he does so.

"You are not well," Merlin says quietly, sadly.

The dragon turns his gaze on Merlin a moment, acknowledging his statement, but quickly returns his attention to Gwen.

"You are a small thing," Kilgarrah comments as she steps right up to his face.

"Sorry, I can see that this is difficult for you," she says. "I can climb on a rock or something…"

"You are not climbing on any rocks, Gwen," Merlin says decisively, and the dragon chuckles again.

"One more step," Kilgarrah says, and Gwen steps up, her slightly swollen stomach nearly touching the dragon's face now.

She waits, holding her breath, anxious. _He won't hurt me. Merlin won't let him hurt me._

The dragon closes his eyes and whispers something in a strange tongue. Gwen feels a warm breeze blow around her, blowing her cloak back, lifting the tendrils of her curls. It is strangely comforting, like a loving embrace.

The breeze stops and Kilgarrah moves his head just slightly, bestowing a small kiss on Guinvere's stomach. She bravely lifts her hand to her face and kisses her fingers, then reaches out and presses them to his immense head, feeling the tough scales beneath her palm, strangely warm.

He withdraws his head and heaves himself to his feet again, and looks quite tired.

"Thank you," Gwen says, stepping back to look up at him more easily.

"Your child will be safe from harm, as will you," Kilgarrah says, almost sighing with exhaustion.

"You have worn yourself out," Merlin says reproachfully. "Is it really that close to your time?"

Kilgarrah nods. "You will not see me again, young warlock," he says.

Gwen reaches over and takes Merlin's hand as a tear rolls down his cheek.

"But there is something you must do. Something I must charge you with before I depart this world," the dragon says.

Merlin nods. "I will do what you bid me."

"Find Aithusa, take care of her; heal the darkness Morgana wrought in her."

"Yes," Merlin nods again. "She needs guidance."

"She is young and she has been treated poorly. Morgana loved her, but I fear that she has poisoned her mind against humans. You must teach her, Merlin. You brought her into the world, do not forget that."

"I know," Merlin whispers. "I will find her."

"She will be the last of our kind before long. Do not let her go astray."

"I promise you, Kilgarrah. I will undo the harm that has been done."

"See that you do," Kilgarrah says, raising up now, making ready to fly. "My queen," he nods at Gwen, "take care of your people. You know how to do that."

"Thank you, Kilgarrah," she says, tears rolling down her cheeks as well now. "I'm glad I got to meet you."

"As am I, my lady. Farewell," he says, pushing off with some effort and taking to the skies.

Gwen and Merlin watch his departing shape until they can no longer see him.

xXx

"You'll be gone by morning," Gwen says knowingly, not bothering to ask.

Merlin nods, looking guilty.

"Will you be returning to the Druids?"

"Likely," he says.

"Will you bring them something from me?" she asks, walking over to the cabinet next to the bed.

"Sure," he says, furrowing his brow, following.

He watches as she digs out a key and unlocks the bottom drawer of the cabinet, withdrawing the horn. _That_ horn.

"I do not want this anywhere near me," she says. "It brought Arthur heartbreak and it brought me injury. And I do not need it to summon the spirit I wish to speak with." She hands it to Merlin. "Give this to the Druids as a sign of my goodwill and friendship. I entrust this to them, knowing that in the wrong hands it could be a very dangerous item. They will treat it with the reverence it deserves."

"I'll take it to them, with your message, Gwen," Merlin says, tucking it into his satchel. "It wouldn't work on Arthur anyway, he is not in that realm," he adds.

"At least find sleep in a decent bed here tonight, Merlin," she tells him, taking his hand. "I don't know how often you get a good warm bed to sleep in, but this castle is full of them. Find one and get a good sleep before you leave."

Merlin smiles and nods. "I'll probably go to my old room in Gaius' quarters. There are a few items in there I wish to retrieve anyway."

"I'm sure Gaius would be pleased to have you back, if only for a night," Gwen smiles. "Oh!" she exclaims softly, and takes his hand, pressing it to her stomach. "Wait," she says, moving it slightly.

Merlin feels the baby kick and the first real smile he has smiled in months lights up his face. "Thank you, Gwen."

xXx

_"Arthur!" Gwen exclaims breathlessly, pushing the door open and stepping into the dim._

_ "Guinevere," Arthur smiles, then a look of shock crosses his face. "Has it been that long?" He frowns, looking at her stomach, how it has grown._

_ "It has been nearly three months, Arthur," Gwen says, unable to hide the chastisement in her voice. "I… I thought I'd never see you again. Was beginning to doubt that it even happened…" she says, her voice catching._

_ "Do not cry, my love, I'm so sorry," he apologizes. "Time must not pass for me the same way it does for you…" he trails off, furrowing his brow._

_ "Oh?" Gwen asks, stepping toward him._

_ "I know what you've done, Guinevere. Lifting the ban on magic."_

_ "You do?"_

_ "Yes. I don't see everything, mind, that's why I didn't know Merlin wasn't in Camelot anymore. But I did see this."_

_ "Oh," she says, nervous, wondering where he is going, what he thinks._

_ "I mainly watch you, of course," he grins._

_ "Obviously," she chuckles._

_ "I'm proud of you, Guinevere."_

_ "You are?" she gasps._

_ "Yes, of course. Lifting the ban on magic… it's something I had been mulling over for a while. I just was never brave enough to do it."_

_ "You had been? Why did you never mention it?"_

_ "Because I was afraid of Morgana, and I didn't want you to see my fear," he admits._

_ "Arthur, I would never…"  
_

_"I know that. But pride is a difficult quality to shed, my love."_

_ "So you approve?"_

_ "Yes, I do. Just be careful," he says._

_ "You sound like Merlin."_

_ "You saw him?"_

_ "Yes, I did. He is worried for my safety as well."_

_ "Good. Oh, but I must tell you, because it relates," he says, distracted now, his excitement growing, "I've been talking with my mother!"_

_ "Your mother? She is in Avalon?"_

_ "Not exactly, but I was allowed to spend some time with her here."_

_ "Oh, Arthur," she sighs, knowing how his mother's absence always pained him more than he let on._

_ "It was amazing, Guinevere," he sighs. "She… I'm… I love that I got to talk to her now, but it makes me all the more sad that I was robbed of her in life."_

_ "What did she tell you?" Gwen whispers._

_ "Well, the last time I saw her was when Morgause…"  
"Yes, I remember," Gwen nods._

_ "As it turns out, what she told me that night, about my birth, was true."_

_ Gwen gasps._

_ "Except this time Mother did not blame Father for my death. She said that she understands now that her death could not have been foretold. The witch Nimueh warned my father that a life would have to be given in payment, and my father accepted the bargain anyway. Nimueh told him that the price may be steep, but my father, in his arrogance, didn't entertain the possibility that something that tragic could happen to him, because he was the king."_

_ "And in the end, he payed the price," Gwen whispers._

_ Arthur nods. "It could have been his life taken in payment just as easily as hers. It could have been anyone: Gaius, any one of hundreds of knights, a random townsperson. Your father, even. Not that I would wish that on anyone."_

_ Gwen nods, understanding. "So when Merlin stopped you from killing Uther by telling you that Morgause was lying, really it was_ he _that lied."_

_ "Yes, and good thing, too. I never would have forgiven myself. And he knew that, damn him," Arthur chuckles. "He probably knew that Morgause was telling the truth."_

_ "So perhaps the gods decided that it was your mother's life to be taken in payment for yours to try to impart some humility on your father," Gwen muses. "That failed miserably."_

_ Arthur barks a short laugh. "Indeed. So, my point in telling you all this is that the ban on magic was born from my father's own folly and refusal to accept his own mistake. He was stubborn and foolish and afraid. He sought out to punish magic for his error. You are right to restore it, Guinevere. It is long overdue. That should have been the second thing I did as king."_

_ "Second?"_

_ "The first thing I_ should _have done was marry you."_

_ Gwen does not know what to say, so she just gazes at Arthur, wondering at him, how he seems wiser, more mature, while somehow still being very much himself. The Arthur she remembers and loves so dearly._

_ "My mother thinks highly of you," Arthur says suddenly. "She told me that had she been alive she would have made Uther see sense. She would have let us be together, openly, the way we always wanted."_

_ "Uther would have been a different man if your mother had lived," Gwen comments, and Arthur can only nod. He glances over his shoulder._

_ "Time to go?" she asks._

_ "Almost."_

_ "I got to meet the great dragon tonight," Gwen tells him. "You never killed him."_

_ "Of course not," Arthur chuckles._

_ "You knew."_

_ "Learned recently. He will be here in Avalon himself before long," he says._

_ "He did hint at that, yes. He was amazing. He told me that I had to finish what you started. He said that you will still fulfill your destiny because I will achieve your goals for you."_

_ Arthur smiles, but it is a sad smile. "At least it will be done," he sighs._

_ "Don't get petulant, Arthur. Without you, without the work you'd done, I would not have been able to do what I've done already."_

_ "I know. And I am still proud of you. You are amazing, my love," he says, taking a step forward._

_ Gwen smiles shyly, never completely comfortable with the high praise he bestows on her. "The dragon blessed our child. Assured me that we would both be healthy and safe."_

_ "That's comforting," Arthur says, his eyes growing soft as they rest on her small belly._

_ "He kicked tonight. Your son."_

_ "Oh…" Arthur breathes, reaching his hand out hesitantly, but then he drops it, as if something has changed his mind._

_ "I have to go. So do you," he finally says, softly._

_ "I love you, Arthur, always."_

_ "Always, Guinevere."_


	4. Chapter 4

"And, finally, we have six men wishing to petition for knighthood," Leon finishes his report, standing and addressing the round table.

"Worthy candidates?" Gwen asks, looking up at him.

"I believe so, my lady," Leon says, lifting a different parchment and looking at it. "Lord Clifton's son Devon, Lord Ackerly's son Lander, Lord Ulmer's son Hyde, and then Judson the baker's son, Oakley, who's mother is, oddly enough, Lord Ackerly's maid – apparently his father has passed…"

"Yes, his father was a farrier. My father knew him, of course," Gwen adds, almost absentmindedly.

"Yes, my lady, and finally, a lad called Yates that no one seems to know. I think he's new to Camelot. He's quite strapping, though, and I think we should give him a chance."

"Very good, Sir Leon, please see to the details," Gwen says, nodding.

Leon begins to take his seat when another knight speaks up. "That's it? No discussion?"

Gwen glances at Percival for just a moment before turning her attention to the man who spoke up. "What is it that you feel needs discussing, Sir Tilton?" she asks, already knowing the answer, but frankly surprised that it is an issue anymore. _They would not question Arthur on this,_ she cannot help thinking. Her fingers absently toy with the crystal around her neck.

"Well, I don't think we should just blindly accept just _anyone_ into training, my lady," he says, a little quieter now under Percival's steely gaze.

"And by 'just anyone,' I presume you mean Judson, Oakley, and Yates? You have no problem with Devon, Lander, and Hyde?"

"Ah…" he says, starting to regret speaking up.

"Need I remind you, Sir Tilton, that Sir Percival was common-born?"

"No, my lady."

"Do you find fault with Sir Percival's skills as a knight?" she challenges.

"No, my lady."

"No, you don't. No one will, because none exist. And surely you will not speak ill of Sirs Gwaine, Lancelot, and Elyan, who gave their lives defending this kingdom?"

"I dare not, my lady," his voice is barely audible now.

Everyone in the room, from knights to scribes to servants wait, holding their breath, waiting for someone to address the elephant in the room.

"Sir Tilton, I kindly advise you to keep a closer guard on your tongue when you discuss matters of status with our queen," Leon recommends quietly, "and bear in mind that she is our sovereign, though she herself was not born into nobility."

"Yes, Sir Leon. Forgive me, my lady. I spoke before I thought," Tilton mutters.

"Sir Leon, see to the details, please. And I think Sir Tilton should be charged in delivering the formal paperwork to Judson, Oakley, and Yates," Gwen decides, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Yes, my lady," Leon answers, glancing across to Percival and seeing that he, too, is biting back his laughter.

"Any other news before we adjourn?" she asks wearily, her hand sliding across her belly.

"My lady," Percival stands, "patrols have reported a rise in bandit activity in the Darkling Woods."

"I was wondering when that was going to start happening," Gwen says with a sigh.

"My lady?" he asks, puzzled.

"It has been nearly six months since Arthur has passed. Things have been too quiet because people – unscrupulous people – have been biding their time, waiting for us to feel secure. Also waiting to start testing my mettle as a ruler."

Mutters of general agreement float around the room.

"We must not allow these people any quarter," she continues. "We will increase patrols in all surrounding forests. We will also check on the surrounding villages with more frequency. It seems we have acquired some new recruits just in time," she smirks.

"Percival and I will get patrols assigned and scheduled immediately, my lady," Leon comments, already making lists.

"I see you already are, Sir Leon," she chuckles. "Be firm with these criminals, but fair, in keeping with the traditions of this great kingdom. It must be known that Camelot is still strong and still flourishing."

The Round Table meeting disperses, and Gwen stops Sir Leon with a gentle hand on his elbow.

"Yes, my lady?" he asks, stopping immediately.

"I should like to come along on a few patrols," she tells him.

"Um…"

"I know what you're going to say, so don't bother. I know I'm a woman. I know I am carrying a child. But I think it will be good for me to be seen actively taking part in the care of the kingdom."

"It could be dangerous, Gwen," Percival says, having overheard.

"Then include me in a patrol that has both of you along so you both can babysit me," she says, a little sharper than she intends. "Look, start with an easy one. To a village, not out in the woods. All right?"

"Yes, my lady," Leon mutters, acquiescing to her demands but clearly not happy about it. "Tomorrow morning," he sighs, looking at his lists.

"Thank you," she nods, heading out.

xXx

_"I only had to wait one month this time," Gwen says, smiling a little sadly as Arthur comes into view._

_ "Is that all it's been? He's bigger now," Arthur says, his eyes dropping to her stomach._

_ "I know why you're here, too. You're going to tell me not to go along on the patrols."_

_ Arthur looks down sheepishly. "Yes."_

_ "I am doing nothing different than what you would have done, Arthur," she says defensively._

_ "Yes, but I was a skilled warrior, deadly with a sword," he boasts._

Was, _Gwen inwardly cringes at his use of the past-tense. "Leon and Percival will be with me. The two of them have become like mother hens," she says. "No. Mother bears," she amends, chuckling._

_ "If anything happens to you…"_

Then I will be with you in Avalon, _the selfish part of Gwen's brain thinks. She puts the thought aside._

_ "…or to our son," Arthur finishes, almost as if he knows her thoughts. He steps forward and places his hands on her upper arms, stroking lightly in the way he so often did. "Guinevere, you do not say it, but I know a part of you longs to join me here," he glances over at the door she cannot see._

_ "I know. I cannot be selfish that way. Because of our child. Because of our kingdom," she says softly, looking down._

_ Suddenly she looks up at him, her eyes wide. She looks down at his hand touching her arm. "You can touch me?" she whispers, incredulous._

_ "Yes," he admits quietly._

_ Gwen reaches her hand up and presses her palm to his cheek. "You're so cold," she breathes. "One of the things I loved about you was that your skin was always so warm." She runs her thumb along his cheekbone._

_ "I'm cold? I do not feel cold," Arthur says, his voice soft. He closes his eyes. "This is why I didn't touch you before," he whispers, his voice raspy. "I was afraid I would not be able to let go of you if I touched you." He brings his hand to her cheek, stroking it lightly, lovingly. He moves it down and traces her lower lip with his thumb. "How I have missed these lips," he mutters, leaning forward, agonizingly slow, and places a soft kiss there, brushing her lips with his own before connecting fully but still gently._

_ He pulls back to see tears running down her cheeks. "And that is another reason why I tried to keep my hands to myself," Arthur mutters, wiping her tears away._

_ Gwen takes his hand in hers and moves it down, pressing it to her belly._

_ Arthur stares, wide-eyed, into Guinevere's eyes, waiting._

_ "It won't be long," Gwen whispers. "He wakes me up frequently with his shenanigans," she smiles._

_ A moment later, Arthur's patience is rewarded when he feels a kick, a considerable kick, right against his hand. His face splits into a wide grin._

_ "Told you," she says, stroking the back of his hand with hers._

_ "Did that hurt?" he asks, genuinely concerned._

_ "No, Arthur. He doesn't hurt me when he kicks. I rather like it. It tells me that he's healthy and strong."_

_ "And you are well?" he asks, caressing her face with his other hand, concern crossing his face again._

_ "Yes, Arthur, I'm perfectly fine. The midwife assures me that I am in perfect health and have nothing to worry about." She pauses a moment. "So I am going on a few patrols with the men."_

_ He sighs and looks down. "I don't know why I try. I never could deny you anything, my love. Just… be careful. Don't make me find Merlin and have him… do… something… to…" he trails off, struggling to come up with anything threatening or even coherent._

_ Gwen giggles at him now. "Mmm, I shall have to keep on my toes," she says, nodding slowly at him while he scowls._

_ Arthur glances over his shoulder. "One more kiss?" he asks, moving closer again._

xXx

The patrol through the small village of Fendrel proves fruitful. The villagers were pleased at the increased security presence and thrilled to see their Queen.

Gwen dismounted for a short while to rest her body, and she took the opportunity to speak to some of the villagers. Her first stop was the forge, visiting with the blacksmith and his wife. She talked to the butcher, the cooper, and some of ladies that had gathered to sew together, admiring their handiwork and even offering some advice, as seamstress work was something at which she always excelled.

She had smiles for everyone. Several children brought her flowers, and she graciously received each bent stem and wilted blossom.

"My lady, we had best return," Sir Leon recommends, appearing out of nowhere.

"You have spoken with the village elders?" she asks. He nods. "Should I?" The thought just occurred to her.

"I think you have done more good for this village doing what you were doing than I did in my brief meeting with the elders, my lady," he smirks. "They know that they have our support," he says, "and I daresay you have the people's hearts."

"Just being friendly," she shrugs. "We should return to Camelot. I'm getting hungry. Again."

He chuckles and beckons to the rest of the men. Percival strides over to assist Gwen.

"If I am getting to heavy for you, Percival…" she says as he lifts her to her saddle, swinging her up as one would a child.

"Nonsense," he cuts her off. "You are no heavier than a little bird, my lady."

"A little bird with a big belly," she mutters, adjusting to the slightly unfamiliar sidesaddle that the midwife recommended and Gaius insisted upon.

"You're not that big yet," Percival comments.

"Great, something to look forward to, then."

The ride back to Camelot is largely uneventful until they reach the edge of the forest.

Leon stops his horse and holds up his hand, calling for silence. He creeps forward, and the rest follow, and soon Gwen can hear it: quiet yet threatening conversation.

"…in the sack, slowly."

"Identify yourself," Leon declares in a firm, even voice.

The bandit curses softly and turns, sword in one hand, a cloth bag in the other. He is a large man, burly and dirty but still fairly young, and as Gwen looks at him, she sees fear behind his eyes.

"Drop the dagger," Leon says, his sword pointed levelly.

She carefully inches her horse forward, fully aware that Percival is following close behind her.

The man's eyes widen when he sees her and he drops both the dagger and the bag. "My lady queen!" he exclaims, and drops to his knee.

The thin young man who was being robbed stares on, as confused as everyone else.

"Stand up," she says quietly, and the man does so. "What is your name?" she asks.

"Shelton, my lady," he says, eyes downcast.

"You bow before me like a loyal subject yet you were attempting to rob this boy. Why?" she asks, moving closer again. "Percival, I'm fine," she shoots over her shoulder.

"Because I have no money, and he looked like he had some, my lady," he mutters, sounding like a contrite child.

"Have you no job?"

"No, my lady. This is all I know."

"Why?" she inclines her head, genuinely curious. "For heaven's sake, Leon, put your sword down."

Leon lowers his weapon, but does not sheathe it.

"I… I do not know, my lady," Shelton answers.

"You appear to be a strong man, healthy. Surely you have some skill apart from menacing people that are smaller than yourself?"

"Not really, my lady," he shrugs.

"My lady," Leon interrupts, "are we to arrest this man or not?"

Gwen lifts her chin slightly and stares down at the man, thinking. The fear is back in his eyes, and he knows she sees it.

"No," she decides. "Not yet, anyway. Shelton, let me see your hands."

"My lady?" he asks, confused.

"Your hands, Shelton, let me see them."

He holds out his hands, palm down.

"Turn them over." He does.

"You are strong," she observes. "You know the blacksmith in Camelot?"

"I… I believe his name is Bramwell, my lady," he mutters, nodding and dropping his hands.

"He is in need of an apprentice. Go to his forge and tell him I have recommended you."

"Thank you, my lady," he says, disbelief clear in his voice. She hears the knights muttering behind her, and Leon is just _staring_ at her.

"And Shelton," she adds, her voice turning just slightly firmer, "step one toe out of line and you will be put in the dungeons so fast that you will leave skid marks in your wake."

"Yes, my lady, thank you, my lady," he bows his head, honored and shamed at once.

"Go," she says, and he hesitates. "Now, before I change my mind and let Sir Leon use that sword."

He turns and flees.

"Are you all right?" she calls to the young man.

He nods, then bows. "Yes, my lady. Thank you."

"Go home to your parents, Jerald," she says. "Surely they must be missing you by now."

"Yes, my lady," he says, stooping to pick up the bag holding his things before scurrying away.

"Let's go home," she tells Leon. He nods and spurs his horse forward.

"Gwen?" Percival asks after a few moments.

"I looked into the man's eyes and I did not see malice, Percival. I saw fear," she answers him before he even asks the question that is on all their minds. "He did not want the life he had chosen, but he did not know how to stop."

"So you gave him an opportunity for redemption," Leon says, mulling it over. "Interesting."

"Obviously it is not an option for every criminal. Some are beyond help, I know this."

"Morgana," Percival mutters darkly.

"Well, Morgana was hardly a petty thief or even a bandit," Gwen clarifies. "She was another class of villain entirely. But I do not see why we cannot help those that yet can be helped. Sometimes a person just needs a gentle shove in the right direction."

"Followed by a not-so-gentle threat," Percival adds, and they all chuckle.

"Well, obviously he can't go off thinking he's free and clear. I know Bramwell. He'll keep him in line," she says knowingly.

"Should we send someone ahead to the blacksmith to alert him?" Leon asks.

"Probably should do," Gwen says, nodding. Leon summons one of the other knights and a moment later he is galloping off ahead.

A short time later, the spires of Camelot are looming before them, and Gwen sighs. "Finally," she says.

"We have only been gone half the day, my lady," Leon says, smirking at her at first, then his expression changes to one of concern. "I knew I should have been firmer about your accompanying us," he mutters, thinking she is uncomfortable.

"Sir Leon, I am fine. Just very hungry," she says, smiling at him.


	5. Chapter 5

_Queen Guinevere,_

_ I humbly beg your forgiveness for the tardiness of my condolences. I know it has been many months now since your beloved king has passed, and I apologize for not corresponding sooner. Many of Lady Morgana's Saxons had fled into my kingdom, unfortunately, and I had a bit of a mess of my own to deal with._

_ That being said, I know the struggle of ruling a kingdom as a widow queen. I should very much like to pay you a visit in the near future and offer my condolences personally. As allies, we should remember to support one another during trying times. On a personal note, I remember being impressed by your kindness and intelligence when we first met, and I have been waiting for another opportunity to meet with you._

_ My messenger will await your reply._

_Yours,_

_Queen Annis of Caerleon._

Gwen reads the message again. She lowers the parchment and looks at the young messenger boy. "Lily, please take this young man to the kitchens and see that he is given a bite to eat," she says.

"Yes, my lady," her maid answers, stepping down from her place behind the throne on the dais. "Follow me," she says quietly.

"Anywhere," the young man answers, and Gwen smiles at Lily's blush.

She reads the parchment again. "Percival," she says, and the knight steps over immediately.

"Yes, my lady?"

"How many scribes do we have?"

"Um, I do not know. Leon would know that…" he trails off. _Of course it's his turn to run training,_ he thinks ruefully.

"Never mind, it's all right. I need four scribes. Get Geoffrey to help you, if necessary. Have them meet me in the Council Chambers after lunch, with parchment and ink."

"Yes, my lady," Percival nods, furrowing his brows a moment. _What is she up to now?_

xXx

"Four scribes, my lady?" Geoffrey inquires. "Why four?"

"Because I wish to write four identical messages, and this seems the most efficient way," she explains simply. "Dictate once, all four write."

"Faster than you writing one letter and having it copied," Percival says, nodding.

"Precisely," Gwen says, and sits. "Ready?"

The four men seated around her, two on either side, all nod, quills poised.

"First, you," she indicates the one closest on her right, "address yours to Queen Annis. Yours, King Lot." Then she looks to her left. "Yours is to King Odin, and yours, King Creoda."

"My lady?" Geoffrey interrupts.

"Yes, Geoffrey, I am convening a meeting of the heads of the five kingdoms, very good," she says. "May I proceed?"

"Yes, my lady. Sorry."

She dictates her letters, slowly and carefully, giving the scribes enough time to write. "…I would like to convene in one months' time, just before midsummer. I look forward to receiving your replies."

"My lady," Geoffrey interrupts again. "One month? Surely that would be, ah, inconvenient for you?" he asks, his eyes dropping to her now-rather-large stomach.

"Geoffrey, the midwife and Gaius both agree that my child will likely be born after midsummer. It will be fine," she assures them.

She turns her attention back to the scribes, who are all looking at her, their faces expectant. "That's all," she says. "I will sign, and when the ink is dry, send the parchments to my quarters and I will seal them."

The scribes nod, and Gwen reaches for the letter to Annis first. She takes the quill and before she signs her name, she adds a personal message.

_Thank you for your kind message and I look forward to your visit. I feel I can learn a lot from you and am grateful for your friendship._

xXx

Gwen sits at the table in her chambers, turning the royal seal over and over in her fingers again, contemplating it, feeling the smooth metal between her fingers, tracing her thumb over the dragon embossed in the metal.

"My lady?" Leon calls softly from the open door.

"Amazing isn't it? How something so small should wield such power," she says absently.

"Indeed," he agrees, stepping inside. A servant with a tray bearing the four parchments follows.

"Oh," Leon says, slightly surprised when she places the seal on the table. _She was talking about the royal seal. Of course she was._

Gwen puzzles at him a moment, but chooses to let it go, indicating that the servant should set the parchments on the table.

"Thank you," she says, and the servant nods and leaves, smiling a little at how their queen still never forgets to thank any servant for any service.

"Arthur would be proud of you, you know," Leon says suddenly.

"I know," she answers as her practiced fingers melt the wax over the edge of the parchment, sealing the first message perfectly. "Sit with me a moment, Leon."

"You are very good at that, my lady," he observes, sitting. "Every time I try, I make a complete pig's ear of it."

"Arthur was never very good at it, either," Gwen sighs. "Most of the time I sealed his correspondences for him." She seals the next one, and suddenly starts to chuckle.

"My lady?" Leon inquires, confused.

"A thought just occurred to me," she says, reaching for the next message. "Uther."

"Uther?" Leon asks. "I can think of few people _less_ amusing than Uther."

"Well," she says, pressing the seal into the soft wax for the third time, "if you think about the fact that Uther's _precious_ kingdom is now being run solely by the lowly maidservant who he deemed _beneath_ both himself and his son…"

"I suppose you have a point," Leon says, chuckling a little himself now.

"And here I sit, carrying his grandson, no less."

"Or granddaughter," Leon says.

"Oh, yes, of course it could be a girl, you're right," she allows out of courtesy, though she knows the child to be a boy.

"You're probably right, though, I'm sure that Uther is positively fuming in whatever corner of purgatory he currently resides," Leon says, his voice surprisingly harsh.

"Leon, I am surprised at your tone!" Gwen says, but she is not scolding him. "You were always the most loyal of knights." She finishes sealing the last message and sets all four back on the tray.

"I did not condone many things Uther did, to be honest," Leon admits. "I always found his treatment of you, in particular, to be unnecessarily harsh. Especially after that business with your father."

"Thank you," she says softly.

"And your ability to take care of Uther when his health had failed him, despite all he had done…"

"I did that for Arthur. Because I loved Arthur, I would care for his father. He did not want to ask it of me, but he knew he could trust me," Gwen says, her voice still soft.

"Perhaps in the spirit world, Arthur will be able to make Uther see that he made the right choice when he married you," Leon says.

"Arthur is… not in the same realm as Uther," Gwen says, her hand unconsciously fingering her crystal now. "Uther is in the spirit world. Arthur is in Avalon."

"I'm confused."

"Merlin," Gwen says by way of explanation. "Merlin sent Arthur's body to Avalon, and that is where his spirit is now. It's, um, set apart. Probably a good thing they're not in the same place," she adds, her mind drifting once again to Uther's unleashed spirit and how much his actions upset Arthur.

"That crystal," Leon says, noticing her habit of late of toying with it when she is lost in thought, "where did you get it?"

_Should I tell him? Tell him that Arthur sometimes visits me while I sleep? If anyone can accept this knowledge, it would be Leon._

"Merlin gave it to me after Arthur died, the first time he returned," she says. "It is Arthur's heart."

"It symbolizes Arthur's heart, you mean?" he asks, quirking his head to the side.

"Yes. Sorry, yes, it is a symbol of his heart," she agrees, decided to keep the dreams to herself for now.

"If my opinion counts for anything, my lady, Arthur was correct to pass this kingdom to you. You're doing very well."

"Of course your opinion counts, Leon," Gwen says, picking a speck of wax off the seal and replacing it in her pocket. "And thank you, but I could not do what I do without your help," she says, placing her hand over his for just a moment.

"I'll just… take these to the messengers, then," Leon says, standing quickly and reaching for the tray.

"Annis' messenger is still about," Gwen tells him. "He was instructed to wait for a reply."

"I will look for him," Leon nods and heads for the door.

"Look for my maid, Lily; he's probably trailing after her like a lost puppy," Gwen chuckles.

xXx

A month later, Gwen is standing in the courtyard between Leon and Percival, her hands tucked into each man's elbow. King Odin's party had been spotted and so Queen Guinevere came out to meet them.

"I always feel very short when I am standing in between the two of you," Gwen mutters.

"That's because you _are_ very short, Gwen," Percival answers, just as dryly. Leon shoots him a warning glare over the queen's head, but she is laughing, so Percival returns the glare with a smug look of amusement.

Odin's party enters the courtyard and Gwen squeezes Leon's elbow. He and Percival escort the queen down the stairs to greet her visitor.

"Queen Guinevere," Odin greets her, holding his hand out. She places hers in it and he kisses her hand respectfully.

"Welcome, King Odin," she says, smiling at him.

"Ah, so the rumors are indeed true," he says, smiling down at her, "Camelot does have an heir on the way."

"Indeed, my lord, this is not a pumpkin under my gown," she says, patting her stomach lightly. "Though it may be as big as one."

"My lady, the tales of your beauty do not do you justice," Odin assures her.

"Thank you, my lord. You of course remember Sir Leon and Sir Percival," she indicates her security detail.

"Welcome, your highness," Leon says. He turns and waves to a servant.

"Thank you," Gwen says to Leon. When the servant reaches them, she turns back to Odin. "King Odin, this is George, one of our finest servants. As I must stay out here to greet our other visitors, he will show you to your rooms and will also attend you during your stay. George?"

"It is an honor and a privilege, my lady," George says, his clipped and efficient manner intact as always. "Sire, if you would but follow me," he addresses Odin, reaching for the king's satchel.

"George will see you to the meeting at the appointed time," Gwen says.

"Thank you, my lady," Odin says. He seems impressed with George, and Gwen is glad that she chose him for this task. She knows that relations with Odin are still a trifle strained, and is eager to impress upon him that he is welcome here.

_He did seem more relaxed than I expected,_ she thinks.

Odin's party disperses. Horses stabled, people given rooms. A short time later Queen Annis' group appears.

"Annis," Gwen greets the queen, embracing the other woman warmly once her feet were on the ground.

"Gwen, it is lovely to see you again," Annis smiles. "Sir Leon, Sir Percival" she adds, nodding at the knights.

"My lady," the two men chorus, both impressed at her skill for names.

"I see that you are well-protected," Annis chuckles. "I must say, when I last saw Arthur you were not along, and I was saddened by your absence."

"Ah, well, it was not a pleasure trip, as you know," Gwen answers. "But Arthur did relay your warm regards when he returned. Once he remembered."

"And how are you, dear? Are you well? And the babe?"

"We are both well, thank you. He's a big one, as you can see," she smiles. "I still grieve for Arthur, of course, but I have so much to do here that it at least keeps my mind occupied. Most of the time."

"I know, Gwen," Annis says, patting Gwen's hand. _The child has dropped already,_ she notes.

"Ah, you remember Evelyn?" Gwen indicates the maid who has just approached them.

"Yes, of course, she attended me on my last visit, and did a fine job," Annis says, nodding as the girl curtseys.

"I am still awaiting King Lot and King Creoda, so Evelyn will be showing you to your rooms," Gwen says.

"Thank you, Gwen. I look forward to talking with you more later," Annis answers, following the servant up to the castle.

King Lot arrives next, Cenred's brother. Luckily he does not share the same twisted megalomania that his older brother had, and has proven a good ally as well as being polite and respectful to the queen.

"My lady, it is a pleasure to see you again," Lot says, kissing her hand. He is young, close to Arthur's age, and shares some of his brother's darkly handsome physical traits.

_He looks a little like Gwaine, actually,_ Gwen notes as she introduces him to his assigned servant, Kirby. "I am awaiting only King Creoda of Mercia," she tells him. "The others have arrived already."

"Thank you, my lady," he nods, smiling warmly.

"Have you met Creoda?" Leon asks while they wait.

"No," Gwen says. "But I had never met Odin before, either, and he was quite pleasant."

"Creoda is old and… traditional. I just hope that he is not…"

"Like Uther," Percival finishes.

"We shall see," Gwen sighs. "I'm quite used to dealing with that sort of behavior, as you know."

"I am well aware," Leon says, "But I am allowed to be concerned for you, my lady."

"That is part of your job description," she answers, smirking. The party from Mercia enters the courtyard and Gwen schools her features into something more regal.

"King Creoda, welcome to Camelot," she says, her voice steady and firm.

The king dismounts and looks down at Gwen, stroking his grey goatee thoughtfully. He is a large man, heavy but still powerful-looking. "Queen Guinevere," he finally says, "I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance." He holds out his hand and she places hers in it again. He kisses her knuckles, his beard coarse against her skin.

"And I, yours, Sire. I thank you for your earlier message of condolence for the loss of my husband," she nods.

"You are most welcome, my lady, and I daresay it appears that the young king did not leave you completely on your own," he says.

"Oh, forgive me, yes, may I present Sir Leon and Sir Percival, my guard captains and personal bodyguards," she introduces her knights.

"Good sirs, I see you are indeed loyal to your queen," he nods. "But I was not referring to them, my lady," Creoda says, his eyes twinkling now as they fall on her large stomach.

"Oh! That. Well, yes, I guess that's correct as well," she says, blushing slightly.

Creoda laughs now, and Gwen cannot help but relax. "My lord, you are the last to arrive," she informs him. "Marcus will be attending you during your stay; he will show you to your rooms."

"Ah, very good," he says, offering his arm to Gwen. "My lady, if I may have the honor?" he asks, glancing at Leon.

"Thank you," Gwen says, taking the king's arm and allowing him to escort her to the castle.

"I hope you have not been standing out here very long," he says. "You should not be on your feet very much."

"Thank you for your concern, but I am well," she says. "How many children do you have, my lord?" she asks, quite confident that he does indeed have children from his demeanor with her.

"Seven," he declares proudly.

"Oh, my!" Gwen cannot help but exclaim, inwardly thinking _His poor wife!_

Creoda just chuckles again, and Gwen decides that he is nothing like Uther at all.

xXx

"Thank you all for coming," Gwen says, looking around the Round Table at her guests and their advisors. She felt the Table would be a good place to hold a meeting such as this, giving no man or woman more import than another. "Since you all know each other already, we will dispense with formalities like introductions, unless anyone has any objection?"

"None, my lady, I daresay you are the only newcomer to this group," King Creoda says.

"True," Gwen says, smiling and nodding.

"But we were all acquainted with your late husband, and held him in high regard," Annis ventures, sneaking a glance at Odin, whose face is impassive but not stony. "And I, for one, know that he valued your counsel above all others and that you are a wise and compassionate person."

"Thank you, Queen Annis," Gwen says. She pauses a moment and shifts in her seat as if she is slightly uncomfortable, but then presses on. "Down to business, then…"

Alliances are discussed. Border disputes settled, surprisingly amicably. Finally, unification is brought up, by Odin of all people.

"Queen Guinevere," he sighs, "we all know why we are _really_ here, so why not get down to it, shall we?"

"Very well, King Odin. I must commend you on your no-nonsense approach to matters," she says, a half-smile playing at the corner of her mouth for a moment before it drops and she furrows her brow a moment.

"Unification," she says after a moment. "Our kingdoms are all strong, prospering. Healthy. But united, we will be…" Gwen pauses, blinking, taking a breath, "even stronger. This was the goal my husband was working towards, and I wish to fulfill that goal."

There are murmurs of general agreement around the table. Queen Annis is strangely quiet, watching Gwen carefully. Annis glances at Creoda and notes that he, too, is watching the young queen with interest.

"I think I need to stand," Gwen mutters, and in moments Percival is at her side, his hand extended.

"Are you all right, Gwen?" he asks softly as he helps her to her feet.

"Yes," she assures him. "Baby is just… active today, that's all."

Gwen turns to face the others again. "Now…" she starts and stops immediately, eyes wide. "Um…"

Queen Annis stands now. "My lords, I believe we will need to reconvene this council in a few months' time," she says quickly.

"Whatever for?" King Lot asks, looking between the two women.

"Because if you would open your eyes and see what is before you, Queen Guinevere is going to bear her child, and soon," Annis snaps, addressing the king as if she is scolding a disobedient child.

The three kings at the table suddenly look very uncomfortable.

"Percival…" Gwen holds her hand out to the knight and he takes it, pulling her to his side, supporting her. She grips his hand tightly a moment, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Ow," Percival says, more surprised than actually injured, looking down at the surprisingly powerful grip of the queen's hand on his.

She loosens her grip. "Leon," she looks at Leon and he nods, understanding what she needs him to do.

"You are all welcome to stay the night if you so choose," he steps forward and addresses them. He glances back to see Percival and Gwen stop another moment and then Percival stoops and lifts her into his arms before continuing to the door. He also just barely hears Percival mutter something that sounds like, "Come on, Little Bird, let's get you to your room, then."

"I'm going with them," Annis tells Leon and scurries after them. Leon can only nod.

"Dinner will be provided, and you may stay or go as you will," he finishes. "If you will excuse me, I have a physician and a midwife to summon." And with that, he all but runs from the room.

The three remaining kings and their advisors sit and stare at one another for a moment.

"Why would Queen Guinevere invite us for a council if she knew her babe was going to be born?" Lot finally says, sounding mildly insulted.

"Lot, you do not have any children," Odin says, looking at the younger man.

"Well, no. I have yet to take a wife, in fact."

"No one can predict when a child decides to come into this world. The best anyone can do is guess. Especially with a first-born. It is up to the babe. And until someone discovers a way to ask _him,_ we are at his tiny mercy," he says.

"I daresay young Guinevere did not even fully realize what was happening," Creoda chuckles, leaning back in his seat. "But surely her wizard friend could have predicted…" he muses.

"Creoda, have you not noticed?" Lot says. "Her wizard friend is not here."

"Well, I don't know what he looks like," he _humphs_ petulantly, crossing his arms across his barrel-like chest. "I had actually been hoping to meet him."

"I have seen this young man," Odin says quietly. "He was Arthur's manservant. He saved my life."

"What?" Creoda asks. "How did Arthur's servant save your life?"

"He stopped Arthur from killing me," Odin answers, still softly. "I'd never seen anything like it. It didn't strike me at the time, the oddity of it, because I had a sword to my throat, but… this servant was more like an advisor to Arthur." He pauses again. "Arthur had his sword to my throat, as I said. And the servant… what was his name?"

"Merlin," a voice tells them. They look over to see Geoffrey still sitting at the table, making final notes and organizing parchments.

"Thank you," Odin says. "Merlin stayed his hand. Stopped him. Made him think about what he was doing, consider another alternative."

"So you're telling me that the great King Arthur, known for his arrogance and his prowess in battle, was swayed by the words of his manservant?" Creoda asks, trying to get a handle on the situation.

"Merlin was more than a servant to Arthur," Geoffrey pipes up again, looking at the men over steepled fingers.

"Oh, _I_ see," Lot says, implication plain in his voice.

"Lot, do not be crass," Creoda snaps.

"Merlin was Arthur's _friend,_" Geoffrey continues smoothly, ever unflappable. "Surely you know as kings yourself what a rare commodity a friend is. A true friend."

They all nod, somewhat sadly.

"There were only two people whom King Arthur trusted above all others. Queen Guinevere and Merlin," Geoffrey finishes.

"Would that we were all so lucky," Odin says.

"I believe this Merlin has been in my kingdom recently," Lot says, thinking. "From what I hear, his mother lives in the village of Ealdor, on the edge of my kingdom."

"She does," Geoffrey confirms.

"I had reports of a lone young man wandering, thin and pale with dark hair, often muttering to himself. He spent some time in Ealdor, then was on his way again, heading west. He always managed to evade any patrols, and they were always very confused by it. Then someone pointed out that he surely must be the young sorcerer."

"Why does he wander so?" Creoda wonders. "Surely the queen would welcome him in Camelot, especially now that magic is no longer illegal here."

"Our court physician, Gaius, was Merlin's guardian here," Geoffrey tells them. "He told me recently that Merlin's purpose in life, his destiny, was to serve Arthur. To help him become the great king he was destined to be."

"Ah," Lot says. "He feels he has failed?"

Geoffrey nods. "That is one of the reasons why it is so important to Guinevere that she continue Arthur's work. Merlin is her friend as well, you know. Gaius and Guinevere have both made mention of the fact that while it is too painful for Merlin to remain here, he does not know what to do or where to go now. He wanders because he is lost."

"That must be very difficult," Creoda mutters, scratching his short gray beard with his hand thoughtfully. "Are you staying?" he asks the other two.

"I may. I should like to see the child, perhaps," Odin muses.

"Odin, I did not realize you were so softhearted," Creoda says, raising an eyebrow.

"What of it?"

"Nothing, my lord, it is merely surprising, that's all. Lot?"

"I'll be heading out presently. My kingdom is not far, and there is plenty of daylight left," he says, standing. His advisors stand as well. "My lords," he bids farewell to the other two and steps out.

"He is young," Odin says. "Trying not to be the idiot tyrant that his brother was must be difficult for him."

"Lot needs a good strong queen to keep him in line," Creoda remarks. "But Cenred made the mistake of letting Morgause lead him around by his manhood, and if I were a betting man, my money would be on that being at least one of the reasons why he has yet to choose a wife."

"He should learn by Arthur's example. Look for a wife that he can love and trust instead of looking for one to forge an alliance. Worked out well for Arthur. Guinevere has proven to be a very good queen, even on her own," Odin says.

"Yes, even holding a council up to the moment when her waters break," Creoda chuckles. "Come. Let us see about some dinner and then find out about the child."

The two kings walk to the doors together, and as Geoffrey gathers his things, he hears Creoda's chuckling voice again.

"So then you only allied with Arthur because the other option was death?"

"Initially, but it did turn out to be a good decision. I was tired of all the vengeance…" Odin's voice drifts off as the men depart.

xXx

"Gaius, you need to stay out!" the midwife orders, pushing the nosy physician back into the corridor with Leon and Percival.

"I will be right out here if you need me, Rose," he calls as the door is slammed in his face.

From the other side of the door another loud groan reaches their ears. Gaius looks at Leon and Percival, finding them both looking very worried and rather pale.

"Brave strong knights, indeed," he chuckles at them. "She is fine, boys. Yes, the baby is big, but she is strong and healthy."

"He's early, Gaius," Leon says.

"He's probably early because he is big. He wants out because he's run out of room," Gaius chuckles again. His head turns sharply at another groan, this time followed by an uncharacteristic curse, bringing a smile to the lips of all three men.

"Damn you, Arthur Pendragon!" Guinevere shouts, crouched over a strange chair with no seat, a loose gown covering her top half.

"They are closer together, my lady, that's good," the midwife says smoothly. Annis is seated beside and a little behind Gwen, holding her hand when she needs it, giving the young queen the support she wished she had gotten when she bore her own first child.

"Oh for the love of all that is sacred, you can call me Gwen!" she snaps, breathing heavily. "You've already got your face in my nethers, so you may as well address me by my given name!"

Annis bites back a laugh at this. _The girl has a point,_ she cannot help thinking.

"Oh…" she squeezes Annis' hand as another contraction hits her.

"Almost time to push, Gwen," the midwife says, checking again.

"I'm already exhausted, Rose…" Gwen gasps, a tear escaping from her eye.

"You're doing very well," Annis assures her.

"He's… the baby… I'm afraid… he's too early… too big…"

"He not so early that we should be worried," Rose assures her. "I have delivered babies earlier than this with no trouble at all."

"And they lived? The babies?" Gwen asks.

"Yes," Rose assures her. _Almost always,_ she mentally adds, but knows better than to voice such a thing at this time.

Annis pats Gwen's shoulders comfortingly. "He will be fine, and so will you," she says. _I notice she did not inquire if the mothers lived._

Gwen tenses up again as another wave comes, and the midwife ducks her head.

"Okay, Gwen, push this time."

She bears down and pushes, hard, wanting this over as soon as humanly possible.

"Okay, stop," Rose says, patting her leg.

Gwen growls with frustration. "How many children do you have, Annis?" she asks.

"Five," Annis says, chuckling.

"I have a whole new level of respect for you now_owww…_" Gwen's words turn into another groan as she tenses and pushes again, finding that she feels compelled to do so now.

She pushes for what seems an eternity, but the child is stubborn and her small frame isn't helping matters.

Finally, after one particularly loud and grueling push, Gwen slumps in the stool, her eyes closed, head to one side.

"Gwen?"

_It is dark when Gwen opens her eyes, finding herself in the gateway. Alone._

_ "Guinevere," Arthur's voice floats from the darkness. Gwen jumps, startled. _ This is too similar to the dark tower. _She finds herself looking upwards, eyes searching for dripping black mandrake roots. Finding none, she shakes her head to clear it._

_ "Arthur? Where are you?"_

_ "Wake up and finish birthing our son, my love," he says, his voice loving but firm._

_ "He's too big," she says, her voice breaking._

_ "You can do it. I am with you, I promise. I won't let anything happen to you or him."_

_ "But…" her words are cut off as she feels his soft kiss upon her lips, though she cannot see him._

_ "They tell me that our son is to be named Llacheu," his voice again; this time it feels as though he is whispering close to her ear, and she shivers._

_ "Llacheu," she repeats, whispering as well._

_ "Yes. I love you. Now wake up and bring my son into the world."_

Gwen stirs and blinks her eyes open as another contraction rips through her.

"Oh good, she's back," the midwife says, and Gwen feels something cool dab at her brow. "Push, Gwen."

Gwen does, grunting with the effort in a most unladylike way.

"Almost there," the midwife states when she stops.

"Three months have passed and that's all I get?" Gwen mutters softly.

"Gwen?" Annis asks, puzzled. Gwen turns and sees that it is Queen Annis that has been mopping her brow with cool cloths.

"Oh, nothing," she sighs. "Oh, no…" Another wave hits her and she pushes, screaming now, gripping the arms of the chair, her fingernails digging into the wood.

"One more!" Rose exclaims. "He's halfway out!"

"Good, because I feel like… aaauurrgghhh!" she screams again, pushing with all her tiny might, and suddenly she feels a little better.

"I feel like I've been ripped in half," she finishes, panting.

"Well perhaps this beautiful baby boy will be worth the effort," Rose declares, clearing his mouth out. She hands him up to Gwen as his wails fill the air.

"Oh…" Gwen sighs, tears starting afresh as she takes the slippery, purple, squirming man into her arms. "He's beautiful," she says, her voice weak and hoarse.

"He is perfect," Annis declares over her shoulder, noting ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. "And he _is_ big," she chuckles.

"One more push, my lady, and then we can move you to a more comfortable location," the midwife instructs. "This should be an easy one, after that."

Guinevere shushes her son and kisses his forehead, caring little about the fact that he is still covered in slippery wetness. She pushes obediently, delivering the afterbirth.

"Gods, that feels better," she gasps, and Annis chuckles again.

"My lady, if I may have the prince, I will cut him free and clean him for you," Rose asks, holding her hands out for the baby.

Two maids, older, experienced maids, attend Guinevere, cleaning her and re-dressing her before helping her back to her bed.

xXx

"My lady, Gaius would like to see the prince," the midwife says. Gwen has been holding her son for several minutes now, gazing down at him, stroking his soft cheek, cooing and singing softly to him.

"Yes, all right," she says. "Hand me that dressing gown," she says to one of the maids, and the woman helps her into it. Gwen really doesn't care, but knows she must cover her already-covered self for propriety's sake.

Gaius rushes in now like an excited grandfather, and Gwen spies Leon and Percival peeking shyly in the door as well, unsure if they should enter.

"Tell them they can come in as well," Gwen says. She would call to them herself, but her voice is half gone due to the beating it took during childbirth.

Annis goes and brings them in, taking each one by the hand as if they were her own sons.

"May I?" Gaius asks, holding his hands out.

"Of course, you may be the first to hold the prince. Well, after myself and Rose," she smiles.

Gaius gazes down at the boy and cannot contain his gasp.

"Goodness," Leon breathes over Gaius' shoulder.

"Indeed," Gaius agrees.

"What?" Percival asks.

"He is the copy of Arthur," Gaius says quietly. "A slightly darker copy, but… I feel as though I have gone back in time."

Percival peers over Gaius' other shoulder, glancing at Gwen. Clearly she had already come to this conclusion on her own.

"I… kind of see it," he mutters.

"It helps to have known Arthur as a boy," Leon explains. "Trust me. The prince looks just like his father."

"Guinevere, are you all right?" Gaius asks, knowing that having a tiny copy of her beloved husband could be painful as much as it could be wonderful.

"Yes, Gaius," she says. "I'm… glad he looks so like Arthur. I think his hair may have some curl to it, though," she points to the now-mostly-dry wisps covering his head.

Leon reaches down and delicately fingers a curl, smiling.

"I think this will effectively stop any question of parentage," Gwen comments dryly, watching as Gaius sets the boy on the bed to examine him.

"People were questioning?" Annis asks, incensed.

"Not directly, of course," Gwen says with a shrug. "But the implications were there." She shifts a little, wincing slightly at a sharp twinge, low and deep inside her belly.

"Disgusting. No respect at all," Annis says.

"I agree," Leon says. "Disrespectful and ludicrous."

"The prince appears to be healthy and strong, my lady," Gaius declares. "What will you name him?"

"Gwen?" Percival asks, concerned, noticing that the queen seems to be very uncomfortable.

"Llacheu," she says, closing her eyes. "His name is… Llacheu."

"Gwen, are you all right?" Gaius hands the prince to Annis now, who takes him happily, but most of her attention is on Guinevere. She is sweating slightly and her cinnamon-colored skin has taken on a grayish tinge.

"I feel… strange," she says, her eyes fluttering now. "Ow…" she moans softly, almost an afterthought.

"My lady?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Gwen opens her eyes to find herself lying on the floor of the gateway. "Arthur?" she calls, looking around. "Arthur?" a little more urgently this time._

_ Suddenly he is there, immediately crouching beside her, sitting, pulling her into his embrace._

_ "Guinevere, I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "He's beautiful, he's just beautiful," he says, burying his face in her neck._

_ "Of course you think he's beautiful, Arthur, he looks just like you," she says, hitching an awkward laugh in between tears she didn't realize she was shedding._

_ Gwen leans into his chest, unable to draw any physical warmth from him anymore, but his mere presence still comforts her, providing plenty of emotional warmth._

_ "I always loved how you fit so perfectly against me," Arthur murmurs, kissing her forehead._

_ "Why am I here?" Gwen asks, suddenly sitting up and looking at him. "I was… sitting in bed, talking to Gaius. Leon and Percival were there. Queen Annis, too. Then suddenly I'm here."_

_ "You're not well," he says quietly, holding her tightly. "You lost a lot of blood and I think you still are. You fainted, Love."_

_ "Oh," she says, strangely unconcerned about this revelation. "I told you he was too big."_

_ "Sorry," Arthur apologizes._

_ "I guess I am glad that I did not marry Percival," Gwen jokes weakly._

_ "Guinevere, aren't you at all concerned for your own health?" he asks, frowning down at her._

_ "I suppose I should be," she says. Something catches her eye and she looks over Arthur's shoulder. "Arthur, I can see your door."_

_ "No," he whispers._

_ "Does this mean I'm…?"_

_ "No, Guinevere, you are not done yet!" Arthur exclaims, standing now, pulling her gently to her feet with him. "You must go back," he says urgently, his face pained._

_ "You don't want me to stay with you?"_

_ He sighs, pinching his eyes shut, his face pained. "Of course I do. There's nothing I want more than to spend all of eternity with you, my love." He opens his eyes._

_ "But?"_

_ "But you need to go back. For our son. My mother died right after I was born, but I at least had Father. He wasn't ideal, but he was mine. If you cross over with me now, our son will grow up without even one parent. Please, Guinevere, please give him what I never had. I don't want my son to grow up like I did, not knowing a mother's love."_

_ "Oh, Arthur," Gwen sighs, wrapping her arms around his chest, squeezing him tightly. He brings his arms around her, enfolding her._

_ "Guinevere," Arthur says softly after a moment, "I'm going to go back for just a moment. Wait here." He looks sternly down at her upturned face. "Do not follow me through that door, no matter how tempting it seems. I promise you I will be back soon." He kisses her forehead and dashes away._

_ "Where are you…?" she asks, but he is through the door. She just caught the barest glimpse of Avalon through the door when he went._ It looked beautiful. Green and lush and warm.

_As Guinevere sits, she wonders how long he'll truly be gone. She remembers Arthur telling her that time doesn't pass the same way in Avalon as it does in the real world. She wonders how long she's been unconscious, and suddenly feels a pang of guilt, realizing she's missing precious time with her son._

xXx

Merlin is standing by a stream, concentrating. He is staring into the water. Hungry. Finally, his patience is rewarded as he spies a fish. He fixes it in his gaze and feels the familiar tingle of the magic he is about to call upon, and…

"Ow!" Merlin shouts crossly, his concentration broken, the fish gone. He spins around. He sees no one. _But someone just thumped me on the back of the head. I felt it._

He looks around, contemplating his surroundings. _I'm not alone._ One of the things he's learned from the Druids is to never assume he is ever completely alone.

"Ow!" he exclaims again. This time it felt like someone flicked his ear. "What the…" he huffs, irritated now, and irritated that he is irritated. _In fact, the last time I felt this kind of irritation was…_

"Arthur?" Merlin says aloud, and a strong breeze kicks up, blowing a wet leaf smack into his face.

"Look, do you have a point to make or are you wasting your precious energy just to be a prat?" he asks, plucking the leaf from his face and throwing it to the ground.

The cloudy sky over his head parts slightly, allowing a small shaft of sunlight through. It shines brightly, pointedly, at a patch of lavender nearby. Merlin follows the sunbeam, and bends to pick a sprig. He lifts it to his nose and inhales its scent, closing his eyes.

_Guinevere._

The name is clear in his head, and Merlin gasps, because he heard it in Arthur's voice.

"What about Guinevere?" Merlin asks, but he is suddenly ice cold and flooded with dread. "Something's happened to her…" he gasps. He picks up his satchel and takes off, lavender stem still clutched in his hand, lunch forgotten.

xXx

_"How long was I gone?"_

_ Gwen stands when Arthur returns. "Not long at all. Though I don't know how long I've been unconscious back in the land of the living," she says, looking at him, puzzled. "Are you all right? You look a little… faded."_

_ "I will be. I just used up a lot of energy," he says, smiling weakly._

_ She reaches over and touches his cheek with her palm. "You're even colder," she breathes. "What did you do?"_

_ "I got Merlin. He's coming to help you."_

_ "Did you see him?"_

_ "I did, but he didn't see me. I'm not strong enough to do that. Only here," he says, and then an impish grin creeps across his face._

_ "What did you do, Arthur?" she asks again, her tone completely different this time._

_ "Well, I had to get his attention, didn't I?"_

_ "Arthur…"_

_ "Let's just say that my attempt worked and leave it at that. If you want to know, you'll have to ask him. When you wake up. In Camelot," he says definitively._

_ "Dead kings do not get to give orders," she tells him._

_ "Is that so?" he counters, pulling her closer. She can feel by his arms that he is indeed weaker._

_ "Yes," she says, looking up at him. "And you're tiring yourself out. I don't think I can bear to watch you fade completely away before my eyes," she adds._

_ "You need to go back," he says, his voice quiet, almost seductive._

_ "I know. So do you," she whispers, leaning up to kiss him once, pressing her lips softly against his._

_ "Tell my son I love him," Arthur whispers against her lips, his forehead resting on hers. "And I love you."_

_ "I will tell him everything about you," she whispers back, "I promise."_

xXx

"Merlin!" Gaius exclaims. Merlin has just burst into the royal bedchamber, nearly knocking Lily over in the process. She is heading out with a laundry basket in her arms, her face ashen and her eyes red.

"Sorry," he mutters hurriedly as he dashes to Gwen's bedside. "What happened? How is she? She had the baby? Where is he? Is he all right?"

"Merlin, slow down," Gaius tries to calm the frantic wizard. "He is with Queen Annis and the wet nurse, having his lunch. He is fine. Perfect. Looks eerily like Arthur."

Merlin grins a moment before his eyes fall on Gwen's still form. "So what happened?" he asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her, placing his hand on her damp forehead. "She's on fire."

"Delivery was long and difficult. The prince weighs just over eight pounds, Merlin, which is quite a large baby for someone as tiny as Gwen. She's bleeding inside and we cannot seem to find the source and cannot stop it. We are changing her clothes and her sheets every couple hours. I fear…"

"No, Gaius. I can help her. I know I can."

"Lucky thing you turned up," Gaius says cryptically.

"Luck had nothing to do with it," Merlin mutters, moving his hand over Gwen's stomach now, his eyes closed.

"Of course not," Gaius says. "Never does, with you." He places his hand on Merlin's shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze before stepping back and letting the young wizard work.

"Don't let anyone in, please," Merlin says quietly, bent over Gwen's still form, placing his hands here and there, searching. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Gaius walk silently to the door to stand like a sentry.

"Where is it, Gwen?" Merlin whispers, closing his eyes. "Where is your wound?" He presses his hand on her stomach, just below her navel. _Almost._ "Sorry, I don't mean to be improper," he whispers, moving just a few inches lower, pushing away any feelings of impropriety. _I need to heal her._

"Aha," he says, "Got it." He opens his eyes a moment, then furrows his brows. "Another," he breathes, and places his other hand beside the first. He closes his eyes and draws upon the magic within him and around him, pulling it to himself, bending it to his will.

Merlin chants, ancient words, softly at first, then growing, a crescendo until he raises his head and shouts the final words, opening his eyes as they flash the brightest gold.

The world is still and silent for a long moment, and Gaius cranes his neck to see over to the bed. He sees Merlin's shoulders slump slightly, drained from his effort. Merlin reaches over and touches Gwen's forehead again, finding it dryer and cooler. He places his hand on her abdomen again, feeling around again.

"I stopped it. I stopped both places," he says very quietly, but Gaius hears him and breathes again. He starts to walk back to the bed.

"You stopped the bleeding, but…" Gaius hesitantly asks.

"I fixed everything. She's fine now," Merlin says quietly. He looks up at Gaius. "Why does healing magic tire me so? I can blast a room full of men into the walls as easily as… _that,_" he says, knocking over an empty goblet with the flick of his finger, "but this… I feel completely drained."

"It is a different sort of magic, Merlin. Deeper. Especially because you do it with naught but yourself. You don't employ any herbs or talismans like most magical healers employ. They may seem like trinkets, but they have merit."

"Healing by magic is the one area that I have not studied enough," Merlin says, fighting the urge to crawl in beside Gwen and go to sleep.

"Most of what I know I learned from Alice," Gaius chuckles. "Get some rest, Merlin."

"No, I want to see the prince," Merlin says, standing. "Where is he?"

"They should be back any…" Gaius' words prove true when the door opens quietly and Annis enters, a very happy and well-fed baby cradled in her arms.

Merlin rushes over, stopping short a foot away from the imposing queen. "My lady," he says, bowing respectfully to her. "I… may I see him?"

"Merlin, is it?" Annis asks, angling her head slightly. "The fool who was never a fool," she smirks just a little at him, and Merlin ducks his head, caught.

"No, my lady, it seems not."

"No matter," she says, deciding that it really isn't important anymore. She steps closer to Merlin, and he leans in.

His breath hitches as he looks down at the baby, words failing him. _Looks eerily like Arthur indeed,_ he vaguely thinks. "He's…"

"He's beautiful and strong and perfect," Annis supplies. "Would you like to hold him?"

"I couldn't…" Merlin stammers, backing up, holding his hands up. "I'll drop him."

"You won't," Annis says.

"Hold him, Merlin," Gwen's weak voice calls from the bed. "You're going to be his godfather. You should get to know him."

"Gwen!" Merlin exclaims, turning.

"Merlin," Annis urges, handing him the baby.

"Oh," he gasps, taking him now, adjusting the wiggling boy in his thin arms until he seems somewhat settled.

"Merlin," Gwen calls.

Merlin walks back to the bed, Annis close behind.

"You're awake," Annis says.

"Merlin healed me," Gwen says absently, her eyes on her friend and her son. Merlin sits in the chair by the bed, looking down at the boy.

"Hello, Llacheu," Merlin says softly, catching a waving fist gently in his hand to bring it to his lips. "I'm your Uncle Merlin. I was your daddy's best friend. He'd deny it, of course. I'm sorry he can't be here for you, but he loves you."

Gwen, Gaius, and Annis all watch as Merlin talks to the prince, his voice soft and soothing. The strangest part is that Llacheu seems transfixed by him, watching him attentively.

"It's like he understands what Merlin is saying," Gaius whispers.

"Daddy is in Avalon, but he will be looking out for you, I promise. He left me and your mummy here with you to make sure you don't grow up and be a…" he pauses, overcome momentarily, "…a prat like he was." He stops again, turning his head to wipe his eye on his shoulder. "We won't let that happen. We straightened him out, we'll keep you in line as well," he finishes, touching the prince's nose lightly. Llacheu gurgles and grabs Merlin's finger, grasping it tightly.

"Merlin," Gaius asks softly, "how did you know his name?"

Merlin looks up, his eyes flitting from Gaius to Annis and back. He merely raises a noncommittal eyebrow. "I'll bet your mummy misses you," Merlin says, talking to Llacheu again. He stands and passes him to Gwen, who has propped herself up on pillows against the headboard.

"Hello, my lamb," she says, her face growing soft as she gazes down at her son. She lifts him and presses her lips to his head, inhaling his scent. "I missed you while I was out, but I'm back now. Daddy made me come back for you."

"Merlin?" Gaius asks, raising an eyebrow. Merlin just gives him a dismissive wave.

"He is a very good baby, Gwen," Annis says, stepping over now. "He surely must have your temperament, as he is very content and agreeable. Except when he gets hungry, then he gets demanding and impatient."

"He gets that from his father," Merlin says with a smirk.

"Oh…" Gwen says, scowling as realization hits her. _Someone has had to feed him while I was unconscious._

"Gwen, it is common practice for a queen to employ a wet nurse," Annis says, guessing at the source of Gwen's unhappiness.

"I had hoped to nurse him myself," Gwen says. "How long was I out?"

"Just over a day," Gaius says.

"If I may say," Annis says, "it is probably for the best that you don't, Gwen. Perhaps if Arthur were here you could have managed, but ruling a kingdom alone and nursing an infant are not two things that can be juggled." She glances at Merlin, the word "juggled" jogging her memory, and Merlin chuckles once.

"I'm sure you're right," Gwen says glumly. "I suppose it would not do to run a council meeting with a child at my breast," she adds, then starts laughing. Llacheu reaches up and wraps his fingers around Gwen's crystal. Gwen lets him.

"I daresay that many of the older lords would run screaming for the hills were you to do that," Gaius laughs.

"Then perhaps I should," Gwen mutters darkly, and now Annis laughs. So does Merlin.

xXx

"Merlin, can I ask you something?" Gwen asks later, after dinner. Llacheu has gone to bed and Annis and Gaius have both retired as well. "And it's only a question, mind, I don't mean anything by it."

"You want to know why I could heal you but not Arthur," Merlin guesses. She nods, looking at her hands.

Merlin sighs. "Arthur's wound was inflicted by a weapon that was infused with magic, while yours was inflicted by an overlarge infant."

"But surely, with all your power…"  
"It wasn't enough. I needed help, Gwen. I nearly drained myself healing you today, in fact. I was taking him to get that help, and I just wasn't fast enough. Morgana saw to that, waylaying us like she did. I should have summoned the dragon sooner…" he trails off.

"So… Arthur saw Morgana, then? Before she died?"

"Before I killed her with Arthur's sword," Merlin clarifies. "I think… I think that was the turning point for him. He was fighting all the while because he knew she was out there and he had to defeat her. But once she was gone, he knew he could let go as well, I think. Camelot would be safe. _You_ would be safe."

Gwen says nothing, tears cascading down her cheeks. "He couldn't fight any more? Not even for me?" she asks softly.

"There was no fight left in him, Gwen. He was so tired. So weak. When Morgana died, he said something like, 'Peace, at last.' And I knew, deep down, that he was done. I could not admit it to myself at the time, but I think he felt that if he was going to die, at least he could die secure in the knowledge that you would no longer be plagued by his sister."

"I have to learn to stop being so selfish when it comes to him," Gwen says. "He died nobly, fighting for his kingdom. He held on long enough to make sure we would be safe."

"Gwen," Merlin says, reaching for her hand, "you are allowed to feel how you feel. He was your husband and you loved him. Of course you still want him to be around, to be here with you. But… Arthur knew what he was doing, I think. Putting you in charge. Hanging on until he knew he _could_ let go. He was so calm at the end… so at peace. He was ready to go, even though we weren't ready."

"I still get angry at him," Gwen confesses. "Angry that he's not here. When I have to deal with matters of state that I _just don't want to deal with._ Late at night, when I'm in this big bed alone and cannot seem to get warm." She snickers suddenly. "You should have heard the awful things I was calling him when I was delivering Llacheu."

"I can imagine," Merlin smiles. "Gwen, I miss him, too. He was like a brother. An annoying brother. An annoying, bossy older brother who delighted in making my life difficult, but still a brother. But there were moments, Gwen. Moments when it was just him and me and it was almost like we were equals. He would talk more candidly, more openly, usually in the safety of darkness and often when we thought we were going to die very soon. But those moments, those little, sparkling moments where he was just a man and not a king, those are the moments I will always cherish."

Gwen takes a deep breath and heaves a great sigh. "You and I are lucky people, Merlin. We are the only two people in this world to have ever _truly_ known Arthur Pendragon. Arthur the man, not Arthur the prince or Arthur the king. Everyone says how fortunate he was to have the two of us, two people he could really trust. But I see it the other way. It is we who were fortunate to have been allowed to have the time we had with him, we are the lucky ones in that he was able to relax and not have to be anything other than himself when he was with us."

Merlin nods, resting his forearms on his knees, his head dangling between his shoulders. "It is also sad," he says.

"True," Gwen allows. "He was really a wonderful person. Underneath all the… _kingy-ness,_" she waves her hands vaguely, "underneath the trappings of nobility and the burden of responsibility, he was just another lost person, like the rest of us. Sweet and loving and so…"

"…fragile," Merlin finishes, lifting his head to look at Gwen. "He felt things so deeply, but…"  
"…he often didn't know what to do with those feelings," Gwen agrees.

"That's why he needed you so much, Gwen," Merlin says.

"That's why he needed both of us, Merlin."

Merlin reaches his hand out and Gwen takes it. "How long are you staying this time?" she asks.

"I don't know, Gwen," he sighs. "I never know."

"You know you are always welcome to stay," she ventures.

"I know that."

Gwen knows then that he is still not back for good, but does not press. "Merlin?"

"Hmm?"

"What did Arthur do to get you to come back here?"

"He didn't tell you?" Merlin asks, leaning back in his chair.

"No. He told me I had to ask you when I woke up."

"Sounds like him."


	7. Chapter 7

_Rodor, Godwin, and Olaf,_ Gwen thinks, mulling over the addition of three more kingdoms to the proposed alliance. The names _Mithian, Elena, and Vivian_ drift unbidden into her brain as she spins the royal seal around her finger, the ring much too large for her slender digit. _Certainly they should be included. And I have no issue with Mithian. It is she who should have an issue with me, but she bears me no ill will at all, even before we helped her. And Elena was an odd girl, but she knew nothing of Arthur and me._

She sighs, leaning back in her chair.

_"Gwen, I was talking with Odin and Creoda before they left," Annis had said to her the morning after she woke. The elder queen was preparing to return to her home now, and the two queens were having a quiet lunch together in Gwen's rooms._

_ "What of?" Gwen asked._

_ "Well, should we not invite Rodor, Godwin, and Olaf to join with us? If five are strong, eight will be even stronger, to borrow your words," she smiled at Gwen._

_ "Nemeth is small, and they would benefit from the alliance," Gwen mused. "Gawant is steadfast and prosperous. Olaf's kingdom, far to the north…" she paused. "Strategic," she allowed. "Olaf does not tolerate threats," she chuckled then._

_ "Indeed not," Annis agreed._

Gwen puts the seal back into her pocket and picks up her quill, twirling it between her fingers. _Vivian, though. I wonder what became of her. Did someone break her side of that enchantment, or has she been pining away for my husband all these years? Did the enchantment disappear when Arthur died? Would Olaf dare bring her here?_

There is a soft knock at the door and Gwen bids them enter, setting the quill back down. "Someone is up from his nap, my lady," Edwina, Llacheu's nursemaid, calls softly, bringing the gurgling six-month-old prince in to his mother. "He's been fed and changed and now he requests audience with the queen."

"And so he shall have it," Gwen says, standing to take her son, who is already reaching for her with his chubby little hands. "Yes, my love, I want to see you, too," she coos. "Shall we sit by the window so you can watch the knights?"

"Ba," he says, and she rubs noses with him, carrying him to the window that overlooks the training fields, swinging it open.

She perches on the edge and points. "There's Sir Leon and Sir Percival, your favorites," she says. Llacheu grasps Gwen's crystal in his hand, holding it.

"Llacheu, mustn't grab Mummy's pretty necklace," Edwina reprimands gently as she putters around the room, tidying things.

"It's all right, Edwina, he will not break it," Gwen says.

"Ba," Llacheu agrees, just holding the crystal in his small hand, not pulling at all, his eyes still pointed outside.

"And there is Sir Bors, with the gray hair. He's been around since your grandfather was young. And Sir… Tilton," she says, squinting, then she chuckles. "Working with Yates, one of the lads he didn't want to allow into training."

"Pbblt," Llacheu blows a raspberry, drool dripping down his chin. Gwen wipes it away absently.

"And look how well young Yates is doing under his tutelage," Gwen says, smirking. "Do you know whose idea it was to make Tilton work with one of our commoner recruits?" she asks, attempting to smooth Llacheu's unruly chestnut curls.

Llacheu presses his free hand to her cheek. Gwen turns her face and kisses his little hand. "No, Lamb, not me. That was Sir Leon. You'll do well to listen to him. He is smart."

Another knock comes. "My lady, the party from Mercia is approaching," a guard informs her.

"Already?" Gwen asks, but then realizes that it is indeed time. "Thank you, Leland," she answers.

"Guests are coming, baby boy. Should we go greet them?" she asks. "Edwina, where is the prince's coat?"

"Here, my lady," Edwina scurries over with the small red woolen garment. It is not cold out, but Gwen pulls his arms into the sleeves and fastens the coat as well as grabbing a blanket nearby. She wraps it around him and he immediately grabs a corner and pulls it into his mouth.

"Come along, my little prince. We have visitors."

xXx

Odin is right behind Creoda, and both men are overjoyed to see the young prince, greeting him as if he is an old friend when in actuality Llacheu was just a day old when he last saw them.

Llacheu is fascinated by Creoda's goatee, reaching for it immediately, and the grandfatherly king allows the boy to tug on it a bit, laughing all the while.

"All right, Lamb, that's enough," Gwen gently pulls his little hand back, kissing his fingers.

"My grandchildren do the same thing, Guinevere," Creoda reassures her, squeezing her shoulder lightly. "Where is that Marcus?" he asks, looking around for the servant he had last time. "Marcus, my boy!" he bellows, seeing the lad jogging towards him, followed by George, who is crossing the stones at a very brisk and very proper walk to attend Odin.

"Guinevere," Odin says softly, pulling her aside gently, "I have… a gift for the prince. If you do not mind."

"Not at all, Odin," she says, surprised, catching Llacheu's curious fingers again as they reach for the gold clasp on the king's cloak.

He reaches in a bag, glances up to see Creoda striding to the castle, and withdraws a carved wooden dragon.

"Ba!" Llacheu exclaims, holding his hands out, opening and closing them expectantly.

Odin hands it to him, his face delighted and amused.

"He… usually says that when he's pleased," Gwen chuckles. Llacheu inserts the dragon's nose into his mouth. "It's lovely, thank you, Odin," she says, and leans up to kiss his cheek.

"You are welcome, my lady. I, um, made it for him," he stammers.

_If Arthur wasn't already dead the shock of this would have killed him,_ Gwen thinks. "You have talent, my lord," she observes. She also has noted that there is not a sharp point on the dragon so that Llacheu would not hurt himself on it. He's moved his attention to the tail now.

"It is something to do with what little idle time I have," he shrugs. "I've made something for each of my children and grandchildren."

"So you have had plenty of practice, then," Gwen smiles.

"My lady, Olaf's party is approaching," Leon tells her.

She cannot hide her trepidation, and Odin smiles. "You'll be fine, Guinevere. You've charmed all of us. George," he says, turning to the patiently-waiting servant. He ruffles Llacheu's hair as he passes.

Gwen watches as Olaf approaches. _I don't see Vivian. Good,_ she finds herself thinking, but still she cannot deny her curiosity about the state of the princess.

"King Olaf, allow me to welcome you to Camelot," Gwen calls to him once he is down from his horse, striding over.

"Queen Guinevere," he nods, then, "young prince."

Llacheu babbles something unintelligible, his mouth full of dragon wing.

"Thank you for inviting me," he says gruffly, glancing at the baby again.

"Thank you for coming," Gwen answers. "His name is Llacheu," she adds.

"Looks like Arthur," Olaf says, nods, and follows the servant that has approached, heading for the castle.

"He's a man of few words," Gwen observes, looking down at her son. She kisses his head and he gurgles happily.

"Wonder what ever became of Vivian?" Leon asks, watching Olaf stomping up the stairs.

"I would like to ask Olaf, but he doesn't really seem predisposed to conversation, does he?" Gwen says, turning back to see Lot and Annis both approaching.

Annis leaps down like a woman half her age and makes immediately for Llacheu, scooping him up in her arms immediately and covering him with kisses. "There's my boy!" she exclaims, like a doting grandmother. "I've missed you. You're so big!"

"He certainly knows how to make an entrance, we will give him that," Lot says, looking down at the babbling boy, dragon still clutched in his hand as he bobs happily in Annis' arms. "Looks strong and healthy," he observes.

"He looks like his father," Annis states, pressing Llacheu's nose lightly.

Lot peers at him. "I don't see it," he says. "But I only met Arthur but a few times, and that was as an adult." He shrugs and turns as Kirby appears to take his bags.

"How have you been, dear?" Annis asks Gwen.

"Well. Merlin's been and gone a handful of times, but still refuses to stay longer than overnight. The prince is a very good baby still, thankfully, and has half the kingdom wrapped around his tiny finger," she says, smiling indulgently at him. Llacheu reaches for his mother.

"Ba," he says as Gwen takes him back.

"Am I the last to arrive?" Annis asks, looking behind her to see Godwin approaching. "Ah, I see not. I will leave you to greet Godwin. My prince," Annis curtseys to Llacheu with a smile and then follows Evelyn to the castle.

_Elena does not appear to be with him,_ Gwen notes. "King Godwin, thank you for coming," she greets him.

"Queen Guinevere," Godwin nods, "I appreciate your including me in this summit."

"I am glad you could make the journey, my lord. To tell you the truth, I had hoped to see Princess Elena again," she says.

"I had to leave someone in charge in my absence," he shrugs. "But she does send her warmest greetings. She remembers you fondly from… that other time when we were here."

Gwen chuckles, a little embarrassed. "Yes, well…" she distracts herself for a moment by untangling her son's hand from her hair.

"Some things were just not meant to be, while others, it seems, were," Godwin says sagely, and Gwen wonders how he and Uther were even friends. "Now, may I have the honor of meeting the prince?"

"Certainly. King Godwin, this is Prince Llacheu," Gwen says. Godwin reaches up and takes the boy's hand gently and makes as if he is shaking his hand.

"I am honored to meet you, Prince Llacheu," he says.

"Ba."

"Indeed," he nods, releasing his hand to follow his servant in.

Llacheu starts to squirm and fuss a little, growing bored. "One more, Baby, one more," Gwen says. Leon steps up and peeks over Gwen's shoulder at the prince, popping up suddenly, and the boy laughs. He repeats this a few more times until the last party arrives, from Nemeth.

Gwen looks up to see Rodor and Mithian riding towards them with their creepy veiled knights, and from the looks on their faces, they obviously saw the First Knight of Camelot playing peek-a-boo with the prince over the Queen's shoulder.

Leon, to his credit, returns to his default state of cool professionalism, not embarrassed in the slightest.

"King Rodor, Princess Mithian," Gwen greets them, "I am pleased to see you. Welcome," she says.

"Queen Guinevere," the King says, kissing her offered hand. He strokes the prince's hair once, smiling at him.

"Hello, Gwen," Mithian greets her, warmly, but trying to hide the awkwardness she clearly still feels after the incident with Morgana. Somehow Arthur and Gwen's kindness and understanding just made her feel worse about it.

"Mithian, I'm so glad you came," Gwen says, clasping the other woman's hand warmly.

"You are?" Mithian asks before she can stop herself and nearly claps her hand over her mouth. She glances at the young prince in Gwen's arms and her heart melts at his sweet little face, even if there is a wooden dragon shoved into it.

"Of course I am," Gwen says. "It's always nice having a friendly face come for a visit."

"Thank you," Mithian says softly.

"Mithian, please stop beating yourself up. It is not your fault," Gwen says. "It is forgotten."

Mithian smiles a watery smile and reaches over to touch one of Llacheu's irresistible curls.

"His name is Llacheu," Gwen says, shifting him in her arms. "And he is getting heavy," she says to her son, touching her forehead to his for a moment. He touches her cheek with his damp hand.

"He is beautiful," Mithian says. "Is it my imagination, or does he…?"

"Yes, he looks almost exactly like Arthur," Gwen says. "He is my little reminder," she smiles wistfully.

"I am so sorry, Gwen," Mithian says, taking Gwen's hand again. "I know I wrote, but I have to say it in person. I cannot even imagine."

"Nor should you try," Gwen whispers, blinking back tears that are suddenly threatening. "Come," she says, brightening up. "I will show you to your rooms."

xXx

The meeting goes surprisingly well, with just a little backtracking to catch up the three newcomers, complete with a fair amount of joking about how short their last meeting was and the reason why.

Gwen has had her scribes and Geoffrey working nearly day and night drawing up eight copies of everything, crossing every T and dotting every I.

They adjourn to the great hall for dinner, a small feast of celebration. Toasts are raised and a general air of good spirits reigns.

Gwen takes this opportunity to slip over and sit beside Olaf, hoping that his tongue has been loosened by good food and drink.

"My lord, how fares your daughter?" Gwen asks gently.

"Vivian?" Olaf asks, turning.

"Yes, my lord. Have you another daughter?"

"No. I barely have her anymore," he sighs.

"Is she not well, then?"

"She has gone… forgive me, my lady, but she is nearly mad with grief over your husband's death. I fear she never got over her infatuation with him that she developed all those years ago," he sighs, clearly at his wit's end.

"Olaf," Gwen says carefully, "would it help to learn that Vivian had been enchanted to think she was in love with Arthur?"

"What?" he asks, a little too loud, and a few heads turn. Gwen waves back Percival, who is starting to rise from his seat where he is chatting with Mithian.

Gwen sighs. "I regret that it has gone on this long. I had hoped that it would wear off, or someone would have been able to lift the enchantment from her like I did for Arthur. Or even that it would break when Arthur died."

Olaf furrows his brow. "Arthur was enchanted as well? How did you lift it? More importantly, who enchanted them?"

"They were both enchanted, yes," Gwen nods. "From what I understand, it was all Alined's doing. His servant and jester, Trickler, was apparently some sort of sorcerer. Alined was trying to start a war between you and Uther."

"He nearly succeeded," Olaf mutters, remembering how he had nearly defeated Arthur until the last round, when the then-prince had spared his life in the name of peace. "But how did _you_ free Arthur from his enchantment? Are you a sorceress?"

"No, though you would not be the first to think so," she says wryly. "I, um… kissed him. Before the final round of your fight. If I hadn't you surely would have killed him."

"So I just need to have someone kiss her," Olaf muses, frowning at the thought.

"No, not just someone, my lord," Gwen says carefully. "I was able to lift the enchantment because I was the person whom Arthur truly loved."

"Even then?" Olaf asks, incredulous. "Right under Uther's nose?"

"We kept it a secret for a very long time," Gwen admits. "Even from ourselves, at times."

"Well, that's it then. I never gave Vivian the chance to find a true love," Olaf sighs.

"You might consider trying to find Alined or Trickler," Gwen suggests.

"Dead," Olaf states. "Made the mistake of crossing paths with the Lady Morgana on a bad day, I understand. Trickler was nothing but a two-bit magician compared to the likes of her."

_Of course,_ Gwen thinks. "I see. Surely, though, there must be someone. Was there ever a young man that she fancied? Someone who has quite likely been banished from your kingdom by an overprotective king?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

He snorts a laugh and Gwen relaxes a bit more. "Maybe…"

"The only other suggestion I can think of is that you find some Druids that may be sympathetic to your cause," Gwen says.

"Thank you, Guinevere," Olaf says. "I do feel better knowing that my daughter's madness is not her fault, and I will try to fix it. A name is creeping around the back of my head now, buried, but I will unearth it."

"Olaf?" Gwen asks suddenly. _Dare I? I must. If she's his only heir, I have to. For everyone's sake._ "A word of advice, if I may. If you do manage to bring her back to herself, do not indulge her so much. Stop coddling her and stop sheltering her."

"Excuse me?"

"Forgive me, but I was her lady's maid during your last visit, and the woman was insufferable."

Olaf opens his mouth to speak, but no words come. His face is a kaleidoscope of surprise, confusion, and anger.

"She is your heir and your only daughter. You owe it to your kingdom, to all our kingdoms, and to _her_ to mold her into a good and just queen, rather than allowing her to continue to be a petulant child."

Behind her she hears someone spit their drink across the table, obviously having heard what she has just said.

Olaf stares at her.

"I know what you must be thinking, and I've gotten into more trouble for saying less than that, my lord," she says, twitching back the smile that inexplicably wants to spread across her face.

"I will take your advice into account, my lady. There may be truth in your words. And I thank you for all the information you have given me," Olaf finally says.

"You are welcome. Please do let me know if you have success," Gwen says, starting to stand.

Olaf stops her, touching her hand. "Your reputation precedes you, you know," he says cryptically.

"My lord?" she asks, sitting back down.

"You do seem to have a… way with words, Guinevere. I am surprised you managed to keep your head attached to your body under Uther's rule."

"I nearly didn't, on more than one occasion," she says, just as cryptically, and finally stands. "My lord," she nods at him and turns, seeing that it was Creoda who overheard her little tirade about Vivian's behavior.

"Nicely done, Gwen," Creoda mutters, squeezing her hand as she passes.

xXx

_"You are an amazing woman, have I told you that?" Arthur asks. Gwen has just stepped through the familiar doorway, from the bright light of her world into what she now feels is a comfortable darkness._

_ "Six months, Arthur," she says, ignoring his compliment, her hands on her hips. "Six. Months."_

_ Arthur presses his lips together, looking contrite. "About that…"_

_ "Yes?"_

_ "I was told to stay away for a while."_

_ "You were told."_

_ "Yes. After your… close call. They didn't want you to be tempted. And I… as much as I love spending time with you, I don't want you to depend on me. You need to make your own decisions. Camelot is your kingdom now."_

_ Gwen says nothing, looking down at her hands. "I'm being selfish again. I am lucky I get to see you at all, I should not complain about the interval."_

_ "It was killing me," Arthur says, reaching for her hand. "But of course I'm already dead, so…"_

_ "Arthur!" Gwen exclaims, trying not to laugh. "Don't do that!"_

_ "Don't do what?" he asks, pulling her close. "Don't make jokes about being dead?"_

_ "Yes! It's disrespectful," she says, but as soon as the words are out of her mouth she realizes how foolish they are._

_ "Disrespectful? To whom? Me? I assure you, my love, I am not offended."_

_ "Stop it!" she says, giggling now, her head dropping forward on his chest._

_ "You did a great thing today," he murmurs into her hair. "Eight kingdoms. Eight. United in peace."_

_ "Thank you. It was… actually really easy," she says, puzzling up at him._

_ "I'd be jealous, but of course, I laid all the groundwork for you," he says smugly. "The hard part had been done already."_

_ Gwen sighs, mildly exasperated, but she lets him have his moment. "Odin was the most surprising. He was nothing at all like you'd described him: hard, bitter, angry. He was quite mild and amiable. He even brought a gift for Llacheu."_

_ "Did he, now?" Arthur raises his eyebrows._

_ "A wooden dragon that he carved himself. I was very impressed."_

_ "Is that safe?"_

_ "There is not a point or a sharp corner on it, Arthur," she sighs. "And he loves it."_

_ "Know what I love?"_

_ "Me?"_

_ "Well, yes, you, of course, but this time I was talking about when Llacheu holds onto your crystal pendant."_

_ "You know he does that?"_

_ "I do. I feel… warm when he does that. I told you that I do not feel cold, but the complete truth is that I feel neither warmth nor coldness. But when he is holding it, I am warm. A good warm. Like a soft blanket around me."_

_ "I'm glad I let him, then. His nursemaid tried to tell him to stop, but there's no way he could break it, so I just let him."_

_ "Keep letting him," Arthur says._

_ "Do you feel it when I touch the crystal?" she asks suddenly, recalling that she toys with it frequently._

_ "Well, you are always touching it; it is always against your skin," he says, tracing his finger along her collarbone then down along the chain. He stops just short of the swell of her breasts, realizing that he has no idea what that could lead to or what could happen, if anything. "But if it helps, I knew the moment you put it on, and if it were to ever come off, I would know that as well."_

_ "It does help," she says, reaching up to touch his cheek. "He's a very happy child. Every night before he goes to bed I tell him about you."_

_ "What do you tell him?"_

_ "The truth. That you were a boorish, ignorant, fat, ugly man with warts and a hump," she says, refusing to indulge his ego even in the quasi-afterlife._

_ He pouts. She melts. "I tell him stories about you and Merlin. Things you've done. He loves Merlin, incidentally."_

_ "I know," he mutters. "He's too little to know better," he adds, just out of habit._

_ "Arthur…"_

_ "Yes, yes, I know, I shouldn't speak ill of him after all he did for me. Especially because I left him dangling out in the world."_

_ "Exactly. And he's been around more because of Llacheu. I made him his godfather, you know."_

_ "As it should be," he allows. He wraps his arms around her tighter now, holding her small body against his. "It'd be nice if there was a chair or a bench or something in here," he says absently, and Gwen laughs into his chest._

_ "Guinevere," Arthur says, looking down at her, "I am very proud of you. In just over a year you've lifted the ban on magic, which I was never brave enough to do, and united eight kingdoms, when I was only trying for five. I would say you're making me look bad if I wasn't so damned proud of you." He smiles down at her, his eyes alight._

_ "Thank you, Arthur. But you were right: you did do all the hard work. I merely finished what you had started."_

_ Arthur touches her chin lightly with his fingers, lifting her face to his as he swoops down to kiss her. He kisses her softly, sweetly at first, but then her fingers tighten on his tunic, pulling him a little closer, and her lips part beneath his. He groans and bunches the material of her silken nightdress in his fists as his tongue finds hers, hungry and wanting._

_ Reluctantly they part, breathing heavily. Arthur glances over his shoulder now. "That was dangerous," he whispers, kissing her temple, skimming his lips along her hairline._

_ "I know," she answers. "Could we even…?"_

_ "I have no idea. And somehow I think it would be frowned upon."_

_ "You're probably right," she says._

_ "Love is powerful magic," Arthur says quietly. "Ours especially. Or so they tell me."_

xXx

Gwen is sitting in the throne room granting audience, hearing requests from the people, when suddenly there is a commotion in the corridor.

Two guards come bursting in, dragging a young woman between them. They throw her to her knees in front of the queen.

"She was found skulking around the lower town, my lady, very close to your old house, in fact," one informs her. The girl looks up. Her face is dirty and streaked with tears.

"Sefa," Gwen gasps. "What are you doing in Camelot?"

"Forgive me, my lady," Sefa says, her voice trembling. "I… I did not know where else to go…"

"You were found guilty of treason and sentenced to death, Sefa. Was it wise to return?"

"No, my lady. But no one will have me. I am scorned and shunned wherever I go. I… I remembered your kindness, my lady, and I thought… either you would show me mercy or put me out of my misery."

"But you are a Druid. Surely they…"

"No, my lady. I fear they have turned their back on me for what I have done. I… I cannot find any camps…" she trails off, tears falling.

"Shall we take her to the dungeon, my lady?" one guard asks.

Gwen ponders Sefa for a moment. _I often thought about what I would do if she were ever to return here,_ she thinks. _I do not believe she is truly a bad person. I never did._

"Please, no, my lady," Sefa begs, her voice a whisper. "I… I will do anything. I know it's too much to expect to be able to return to being your maidservant, but I will do _anything_ if it means I can stay here," she sobs.

Slight motion in the doorway catches Gwen's eyes and she looks up. She connects with a pair of bright blue eyes in the back of the room, in the shadows, and a brief moment of understanding passes between them.

"Percival," Gwen says, "take Sefa to the small guest room in the south wing. Sir Leland and Sir Ronald will follow and stand guard. She is not to leave the room until I have made my decision."

"Yes, my lady," all three men chorus.

"Thank you, my lady, oh, thank you," Sefa says, still crying as she is hauled to her feet.

"You may unbind her hands. I don't believe she will be up to any mischief," Gwen says. She waves to her maid. "Lily, find a clean dress for her, please," she says quietly.

"Yes, my lady," Lily nods, her face confused.

"Don't worry, I'm not giving her your job," Gwen smiles at the girl. Lily smiles back and scurries away.

"My lady, was that wise?" Leon asks quietly.

"Leon, you're going to have to trust me," she tells him.

"Well, you know I do, my lady, but…"

"Yes?" she asks, looking up at him.

"Nothing, my lady."

xXx

Gwen returns to her chambers to find Merlin sitting on the floor, playing with Llacheu. He's got some sort of toy that he either made or bought, a selection of wooden blocks of different shapes and sizes and a small table with matching cutouts. She slips in quietly, watching, unnoticed.

"Square," Merlin declares, showing the baby the square block and placing it through the appropriate space on the table.

It slides through and Llacheu claps. "Ba!"

"Llacheu try," Merlin says, retrieving the block and placing it in his tiny hand. Llacheu takes it and puts it in his mouth. "Put it here, Bug," Merlin says, pointing to the square hole.

Llacheu takes the block and pounds it on the table. He likes the sound, so he does it more, harder. Merlin sighs, and the unnoticed queen giggles quietly behind her hand.

"Stubborn as your father," Merlin mutters, and then he flashes his eyes, and the square hole glows gold. "Llacheu, where is the square?"

Llacheu's eyes light up when he sees the glow, and he puts the block over the hole, shoving, but he doesn't have it aligned right and his face crumples.

"Aaa!" he shrieks sharply, frustrated, and lifts his hand, ready to throw the block.

"No, no," Merlin warns, angling his head. "Must keep trying, Bug." He taps the table next to the still-glowing square. "Square."

Llacheu puts the block back to the table and pushes. Somehow he turns his wrist just right and the block slides through. The gold glow around the square erupts in a shower of multicolored sparks.

"Ba!" Llacheu exclaims, clapping for himself now.

"Very good, Bug!" Merlin says, leaning down and kissing the boy on the forehead. "Shall we try another?" he asks, picking up another block. "Triangle," he declares.

"I think he's probably had enough, Merlin," Gwen says, stepping forward now as Llacheu starts rubbing his eyes. He turns at the sound of his mother's voice and Uncle Merlin is promptly forgotten as he reaches his hands up.

"That's a good toy," she observes, scooping up Llacheu and kissing him.

"Coordination and shape identification," Merlin nods, standing. "I bought it in a small village in Caerleon."

"I was wondering if you had bought it or if you had made it," Gwen says, fussing over her son, who squirms until he can reach her necklace.

"I have no skill for carpentry," Merlin says, watching with interest to see what Llacheu does with the crystal, and, to his amazement, all the boy does is hold it. He doesn't pull. He doesn't put it in his mouth. He doesn't even look at it, really. "Interesting," he mutters.

Gwen smiles. "Well, you do have _other_ skills, Merlin. And I presume that's why you've chosen to pay us a visit."

"Sefa," Merlin sighs. "Poor girl."

"Yes," Gwen agrees. There is a knock at the door and the prince's wet nurse takes him for his nighttime feeding. "You'll help me?" Gwen asks.

"That is why I'm here," he sighs. "You were always too smart by half, Gwen. Of course, Arthur was half-stupid most of the time, so…"  
"Merlin!" Gwen scolds him, but she is trying not to laugh. "Don't be disrespectful," she slaps him lightly on the shoulder.

"Old habits," he murmurs with a small shrug.

"Are you hungry?" Gwen asks.

"Only always."

xXx

After dinner, Gwen and Merlin make their way to the south wing and the room holding Sefa.

The guards step aside as she approaches. She knocks on the door and enters immediately, knocking only out of basest courtesy.

Sefa appears cleaner and is wearing a new dress, but she still looks miserable, lost and scared.

"Sefa, you have eaten?" Gwen asks. Merlin lingers by the doors, staying deliberately out of the way.

"Yes, my lady, thank you for the food. And the dress. It is more than I deserve," Sefa answers, her eyes downcast.

"Indeed," Gwen says absently. "Sit." She motions to a chair, and sits as well. "I am not going to have you executed."

"Thank you, my lady," Sefa exhales, falling to tears again.

"I do not think you are a bad person," Gwen says. "I never have. You are guilty only of doing what you were told by someone whom you loved and trusted. You thought you were being a good daughter, doing what your father had bidden you."

"Yes, my lady, I…"

"I'm not finished," Gwen interrupts. "You will have a chance to say your piece, but first I will say mine. Your actions cost many lives, yes, but you were merely a pawn, used by your father so that he could achieve his own goals. However, your father was not the only one who used you."

"My lady?"

"I never had any intention of executing you, Sefa," Gwen confesses, and Sefa's eyes grow wide with understanding. "I, too, used you to achieve my own goals."

"You used me as bait to lure my father," Sefa whispers.

"Yes," Gwen says. "I used his own daughter, his own pawn against him. I am sorry."

"No, my lady, you have no need to apologize. It is I who is at fault. I… I had doubts, but I still gave my father the information he demanded. He told me time and again about how the Pendragons were cruel and heartless, deserving nothing less than death… oh! Forgive me, my lady," she gasps at this last comment, her hands flying over her mouth. "I did not mean…"

"It's all right, Sefa, I know you meant no offense. Please continue."

"But what I experienced here as your maid was the exact opposite of all that my father told me. I was prepared for cruel and heartless treatment, and you showed me nothing but kindness. You are the kindest person I have ever met, my lady," she says, her eyes wide and sincere. "Even King Arthur, who had a reputation for being arrogant and brash seemed to me to be a kind, understanding man. It was so confusing for me. I am… not gifted with intellect as you are, my lady."

Gwen listens to her words, and finds that she feels nothing but pity for this poor, misled girl. _Misled by her father's hatred. How familiar that sounds,_ she thinks, Uther's name springing to mind.

"Sefa, do you have magic?" Gwen asks, shifting gears.

"A little," she says, "My father never taught me how to properly develop it."

_Of course he didn't. He wanted to keep you simple and meek._ "Merlin," Gwen calls him forward. Sefa smiles shyly at him. Merlin nods, but does not return her smile. "Merlin has agreed to take you under his wing. He will be responsible for you, and you must stay with him and do as he says. If you wish to develop your magic, he will tutor you in the ways in which magic can be used for good."

Sefa says nothing, just looking back and forth between Gwen and Merlin, mouth agape.

"This is not an recommendation, Sefa," Gwen says gently. "You will go with Merlin or you will leave Camelot to wander again. Alone."

"Thank you, my lady," she finally says.

"Do not thank me, thank Merlin. He does this of his own free will, out of his love for and loyalty to Camelot and to me."

"Thank you, Merlin," she whispers, her voice breaking as she starts crying again, this time tears of gratitude.

"You may sleep here tonight, but in the morning you will be leaving with Merlin. He is your guardian now, and you are his ward. If you run away, the consequences will be dire, do you understand?" Gwen asks, standing.

"Yes, my lady," she whispers. She stands and reaches for Merlin's hand, grasping it tightly. "Thank you, Merlin. I won't disappoint you, I promise."

"I know you won't," Merlin says quietly. "Be ready to leave at first light."


	8. Chapter 8

"Percival, why didn't you correct the prince when he made that misstep? He very nearly gave young Maxwell a black eye!" Leon snaps at his fellow knight as the two men walk to the castle from the morning's training.

"Well, he's the prince! I can't… yell at him," Percival answers weakly.

"He must be trained the same as all the other boys," Leon sighs. "I know it's difficult, but…"

"I just don't feel right. I know he's only five, but he outranks me."

"Well, so do I, and I'm telling you from experience…"

"My two best knights arguing?" Gwen's voice stops Leon mid-sentence. The two men spin around to see their queen looking quizzically at them a short distance away, her hands on her hips. She starts forward. "What is this all about?"

"Ah, my lady, perhaps you can settle a dispute that Percival and I are having," Leon says, trying not to smirk.

"I will certainly try."

"It's about the prince," Percival says.

"All right," she says, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Percival thinks Llacheu should receive special treatment during training, my lady. Because he's the prince."

Gwen looks up at Percival, her face expectant. _Well?_

"Um, yes, my lady," Percival says, coughing lightly into his fist. Suddenly his argument doesn't seem as strong, for some reason. "He's Camelot's sole heir, and should anything happen to him…"

"They're only using wooden swords right now," Leon interrupts. "And they are well-padded."

"But…"

"Enough," Gwen sighs. "Percival. I appreciate your concern for Llacheu, but I'm afraid Leon is right."

"Yes, my lady," Percival answers softly.

"We forget that you have not been here as long as we have," Gwen says gently, reaching forward to touch his arm. "You were not around to hear Arthur yelling at Sir Leon for not taking his advantage while training the joust when the sun got in his eyes."

"You know about that?" Leon asks, surprised.

"I do." She smiles wistfully, her mind trailing back so many years now, to one particular morning in her tiny house. "Oh, Leon, do I have a story for you some time… Another time, though," she decides.

Leon looks very puzzled now. "Okay."

"Suffice it to say that I, too, had a front-row seat to Arthur's, shall we say, crisis of identity. Percival, there was a time in Arthur's youth where he realized that if people treated him different, special, based on nothing more than the fact that he was the prince, then he had no way of knowing what their _true_ feelings were. He wished to know his worth as a man, not be fed a lot of garbage by sycophants looking to advance themselves. And on the field of battle, that translated to him not being able to know if he was _truly_ skilled in combat or if everyone was always letting him win. Both of these issues could prove dangerous for him and for the kingdom."

"I understand. Of course you're right," Percival says, frowning thoughtfully.

"Percival, do you doubt my love for my son?" she asks.

"Of course not!" he answers immediately.

"But you see me correct his behavior all the time, do you not? Do I indulge him when he's behaving, shall we say, like his father on a bad day?"

"No, my lady," Percival says, chuckling slightly. "But…"

"Yes?"

"But you are his mother and the queen. I am just a knight."

"Ah, but as a knight, you are his superior. He is not even a squire yet. On that field," she points, "he is not Prince Llacheu. He is just another small boy on the road to becoming a Knight of Camelot. If he makes an error, correct him. If he misbehaves, he is to be punished the same as the others, even if that means mucking out the stable or lugging shields. In fact, I might go so far as to say he should be pushed _harder_ than the other boys, because he is to be their king one day."

"Yes, my lady."

"Don't make me order you," she teases.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Percival smiles now.

"Now if you will excuse me, I have parchments that need signing," Gwen says, nodding at them.

"Of course, my lady," they both answer, nodding back to her and stepping aside so she can pass.

"Oh, and Percival?" she turns, swaying slightly. Leon reaches out to steady her, his face puzzled.

"Yes?" Percival asks, also noticing her unsteadiness. "Are you all right, Gwen?"

"Just spun too quickly," she waves her hand dismissing their concern. "But if my son gives you grief because you're suddenly tougher with him, go right ahead and tell him that he can talk to me if he has a problem with it."

"That would definitely work," Leon mutters, smirking. _The boy loves his mother, but he knows not to cross her. Just like the rest of us._

xXx

"…and then we got to carry shields for the knights!" Llacheu finally breathes, finishing a long story about training that day. It was the first day of the New Regimen for the prince, unbeknownst to him, and if he noticed a change, it hasn't bothered him and he hasn't mentioned it.

"I like Sir Percival, Mummy. He's big. Sometimes he lets me ride on his shoulders. I want to be tall like him when I'm a man," he says, clutching a tattered-looking blanket to his chest as he hunkers down into his bed. Queen Annis had sent the blanket shortly after he was born, and Gwen allows him to still have it at bedtime.

"I don't know that you'll get as tall as Sir Percival, my love," she smiles down at him, smoothing his uncontrollable hair from his forehead, only to have it spring back immediately.

"Sir Leon, then," he declares.

"Sir Leon is nearly as tall as Sir Percival, silly. Your father was not as tall as either of them, and I am not very tall, either."

"You are not tall at all, mum," he says, yawning.

"Yes, thank you, I know. You will be taller than me before you reach full manhood, I do know that."

"And then you can sit on my lap," he smiles a smile that is missing a tooth on the bottom row.

"We'll see," Gwen smiles indulgently at him. "What would you like to hear tonight?"

"Something not too scary," he says shyly.

"Not too scary… Oh, this one came back to me while I was talking with Sir Leon and Sir Percival yesterday." She pauses, stifling a yawn behind her hand. _Why am I so tired?_ "Many years ago, the knights and your father were training and practicing, preparing for an upcoming jousting tournament."

"Sir Leon was there?"

"Yes."

"And Sir Percival?"

"No, darling, this was before Percival came to be with us. A long time ago. Mummy was still a maid in the castle."

"You were a maid in the castle during most of your stories," he reminds her.

"Of course, you're right," she laughs. "Now can I tell you this story? There are funny parts…"

"Oh, good," Llacheu says, scooting over sideways and patting the space beside him. "I want to snuggle."

"Very well," Gwen says, moving from her chair to lie down on the bed. "See, it is a good thing that Mummy isn't very tall now, isn't it?"

"Yes," he answers, curling against her and reaching for her necklace to hold while she talks.

"So. Daddy wasn't very happy then, because everyone was treating him like he was special…"

"But Daddy was special!"

"Llacheu, no interruptions. Yes, Daddy was very special, but you must listen to the whole story to understand."

"Okay."

"He got mad at Sir Leon during practice one day…"

xXx

_Gwen approaches the door, reaches out for it, and…_

_ "Mummy, where are we?" a small, familiar voice speaks from the area of her skirts. She feels his hand slip into hers, clasping it tightly._

Oh, no. Oh, dear. I must have fallen asleep in Llacheu's bed. _She takes a deep breath and crouches down. "Llacheu, darling, you know Mummy's necklace?" she asks, holding it out for him._

_ He nods, running his small finger down the crystal. She smiles, noticing he has his blanket along._

_ "Well, this necklace was given to me by Uncle, and it is very special. I hadn't intended to tell you this so soon, but there's nothing for it now."_

_ "What, Mummy?"_

_ "You're going to get to meet your father tonight, Llacheu," she sighs again. His eyes get as wide as saucers._

_ "Are we dead?" he asks, tears starting to pool in his blue eyes._

_ "No, sweetheart, shh, we're not dead," she says, holding him a moment until he's calm again. "This crystal allows me to see him while I sleep. Not all the time, but sometimes."_

_ "Every night?"_

_ "No, not every night. I never know exactly when he will visit, sadly. I think I fell asleep in your bed after I finished my story. Did I finish the story?"_

_ "I don't know. I fell asleep."_

_ "What's the last thing you remember?"_

_ "Um… you gave him a hankie and he kissed you," he says, making a face._

_ "I'll tell you the rest another time. Would you like to meet your father now?" she asks._

_ "Yes!" he nods emphatically, but he looks a little frightened._

_ "Don't be scared, my love," she says. She takes his hand again and stands. "Come on, then."_

_ She pushes the door open and they step into the dark._

_ "Arthur," she says, seeing his silhouette in the gloom, "there's someone here who wants to meet you."_

_ Llacheu is hiding behind his mother's skirts a bit, suddenly shy._

_ "It's all right, Love," Gwen cajoles gently, reaching down to her son's shoulder, urging him gently forward._

_ Arthur is as still as a statue, staring as his son steps slowly out, emerging from behind Guinevere._

_ "Oh…" Arthur breathes, tears brimming in his eyes. He steps forward slowly, crouching down. Gwen steps aside and Arthur moves around slightly, and Llacheu follows, turning sideways so they can both see each other in the light from the door._

_ "Hello, Father," Llacheu says quietly, staring, wide-eyed._

_ "Hello," Arthur croaks, smiling a watery smile._ He looks just like me. Except for the hair. And he's of course a little darker. But his eyes are still blue. _"You are a very handsome boy, my son."_

_ "Why are you crying?"_

_ "Because you are… beautiful. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."_

_ "Boys aren't beautiful," Llacheu protests, and Arthur can't help but laugh. "Mummy is beautiful," Llacheu adds, looking up at Gwen, who is watching, silent tears rolling down her face._

_ "Yes, Mummy is the most beautiful woman in all the land, isn't she?" Arthur asks. Llacheu nods, his face serious. "You're the most wonderful thing I've ever seen. Is that better?" Arthur asks, swiping the back of his hand across one eye._

_ "Yes. You're really my father?" Llacheu asks._

_ "Yes."_

_ "Is this Avalon? It's dark. I thought it would be prettier. And that there would be ponies. Are you here all the time?"_

_ "This isn't Avalon, no. Avalon is that way," he points, "through a door that you can't see right now. I come here while your mum sleeps sometimes to talk to her."_

_ "Because of her necklace," Llacheu says._

_ "Because of her necklace," Arthur nods. "Uncle Merlin gave it to her after I died so she wouldn't miss me so much."_

_ "I like Uncle Merlin. And I like Mummy's necklace. I like to hold it."_

_ "I like Uncle Merlin, too," Arthur smiles. "And I like it when you hold Mummy's necklace."_

_ "You do?"_

_ Arthur nods, and Gwen notices then that not only do her husband and son look alike, but they have many of the same mannerisms as well._

_ "Llacheu, can I…" Arthur can't even finish the question, his arms slowly reaching forward when Llacheu launches himself at his father, wrapping his skinny arms tightly around Arthur's neck._

_ "Oh!" Arthur exclaims, somewhere between a gasp and a sob and a laugh as he loses his balance and falls backwards, landing on his backside. He wraps his arms around his son, squeezing tightly. He starts to stand, lifting the boy with him._

_ "Blanket," Llacheu says, reaching with one hand, fingers grasping for his treasured comfort item that slipped out of his hand when he hugged his father._

_ "I'll get it," Gwen says, picking it up. "He only has it at bedtime," she tells Arthur quietly._

_ "I slept with a stuffed bear until I was thirteen, Guinevere, I don't care," Arthur admits. He holds his son in his arms, himself in miniature, a skinny, long-legged boy with big feet who asks too many questions about everything. Llacheu is holding on tightly, his head on his shoulder._

_ "Everyone says how much he looks like you," Gwen says quietly. "As if I need to be told," she mutters._

_ Arthur turns his head and kisses his son, feeling his tousled curls beneath his lips, familiar curls, the most visible trait of his mother's. "__How is this possible?" Arthur asks suddenly, his voice an awed whisper. "How is he here with you?"_

_ "I think I fell asleep in his bed," Gwen says, stepping forward and reaching out to rub Llacheu's back. "I was telling him his story and I must've fallen asleep, too. I was tired today."_

_ "Which story was she telling you?" Arthur looks down at his son and asks._

_ Llacheu lifts his head. "She was telling me about the tournament."_

_ "Which tournament? I was in a lot of tournaments."_

_ "The tournament where nobody knew it was you and you stayed at her house and she yelled at you and you kissed her."_

_ "Ah," Arthur smiles. "That tournament. My favorite one. That's when I fell in love with your mum."_

_ "It is not," Gwen says._

_ "Is so. You called me rude and arrogant and said I sound like a pig when I sleep. How could I not have fallen in love with you?"_

_ Gwen sighs, exasperated, and Llacheu giggles. "You sounded like a pig?"_

_ "Daddy snored," Gwen says._

_ "Anyway," Arthur says loudly, wishing to redirect the conversation, "did you understand the point of your mother's story?" he asks, reluctantly setting Llacheu down now._

_ "Um…"_

_ "Here," Arthur sits on the floor again and Llacheu clambers into his lap. "Did she tell you why I wanted to fight in disguise?"_

_ Llacheu nods. "Because you didn't know if they were letting you win."_

_ "Right. And you understand why I needed to know this?"_

_ "Because if they let you win… then you don't know… if you can really do it?"_

_ Arthur squeezes him suddenly, kissing his head again. "Yes."_

_ "Mummy, is that why Percival wasn't as nice at training this morning?" Llacheu looks up at Gwen now._

_ "Oh, so you did notice," Gwen smirks. "I had to settle a little dispute between Percival and Leon yesterday," she tells Arthur._

_ "Percival going easy on our son, was he?" Arthur asks knowingly._

_ Gwen nods. "So Sir Leon won that argument," she chuckles. "He never forgot that day you got angry with him."_

_ "Good. Llacheu," Arthur turns back to his son, "listen to Sir Percival and Sir Leon. I can't be there to guide you. You cannot know how much I wish that were different."_

_ "Me, too," Llacheu says quietly. He holds his blanket against his neck, leaning on Arthur's shoulder again._

_ Gwen watches them sadly._ I think this is the first time I've seen Arthur truly sad here. The fact that he cannot be the one to train Llacheu just tears at him.

_"But they will teach you how to be a knight and how to be a man. Uncle Merlin, too, when he comes around. He's smarter than he lets on, you know. Don't tell him I said that," he adds hastily. "Uncle will teach you about kindness and understanding and the value that can be found in all things. And of course, listen to your mother. She is wise and fair and her kindness is endless. She will teach you how to be a good and just ruler. She is better at being queen than I was at being king."_

_ "Now you're just talking nonsense," Gwen protests, nudging him with her toe._

_ Arthur is quick and grabs her bare foot, lifts it gently to his lips, and kisses it once before releasing it. "I am not talking nonsense," he argues. "Camelot was peaceful during most of my short reign, but under yours she is prospering and growing."_

_ Llacheu starts playing with the ties on Arthur's tunic, twisting them together, pulling them, sticking the end of one up his nose._

_ "I think you're losing your audience," Gwen says, chuckling._

_ "Ah. Llacheu," Arthur says, trying not to burst out laughing as one of the ties falls from the boy's nostril as he lifts his head. "I want you to remember one thing: No matter how hard Leon and Percival push you or how much they challenge you, know that if I were alive, I would push you harder and challenge you more than they ever will."_

_ "Why? Llacheu asks, surprised to hear this._

_ "Because I expect you to be the best," he says simply. "You're the prince; you should be the best."_

_ "Yes, Father."_

_ "Do you want to be the best?" Arthur asks, hooking his finger under his son's chin lightly._

_ Llacheu nods, his face quite serious._

_ "Then you must earn it. You know what it means to earn something, don't you?"_

_ The prince thinks a minute, scrunching his little face, deep in concentration. "To earn something means that you get something because you worked for it, not because someone just gave it to you," he slowly says._

_ "Exactly," Arthur says, beaming at his son. He looks up at Gwen. "He's very smart, like you."_

_ "I am relentless with his studies, of course," Gwen declares proudly. "You know how you would be with him on the training field? That's how I am with him about his studies. He even takes lessons with Gaius."_

_ "Really? Interesting."_

_ "No reason why a prince cannot learn some basic healing arts," Gwen says._

_ "Especially if he finds himself on a battlefield one day," Arthur agrees._

_ "Please, Arthur, I'd really rather not think about Llacheu on a battlefield," she says quietly._

The battlefield is where I lost you. _Those are the un-said words hanging in the air between them._

_ "Mummy, I'm tired," Llacheu says._

_ "Yes, it's about time to go," Arthur agrees, sighing heavily, pulling Llacheu into another hug. "Llacheu," he says, his voice croaking again as he struggles with his emotions. "I love you, my son. Never forget that. I am always with you, in your heart." He touches his son's chest, over his heart._

_ "I love you, too, Daddy," Llacheu says, "I don't want to go."_

_ "You must," Arthur says, kissing his forehead. "You need to go back to your world. Your mother needs you," he whispers this last part, winking at Gwen, who is crying again._

_ "Come, Love," Gwen says, reaching her hand down for her son. He takes it and stands. Arthur gets to his feet and Llacheu hugs his middle tightly._

_ "I'm keeping an eye on you from Avalon, my son. Be a good boy for me."_

_ "I'm always good," Llacheu says smugly._

_ Gwen presses her lips together, giving Arthur a look that says_ your son.

_"Well, good," Arthur says indulgently, his fingers in his son's hair again._

_ "Arthur," Gwen says reaching her hand up to stroke his cheek. He leans over to her and kisses her then, chaste but incredibly loving, fully aware that their young son is watching._

_ "I love you, too," Arthur whispers to Gwen. "And be good," he smirks._

_ "I am always good," Gwen answers. She kisses his nose. "And I love you, Arthur. I'm glad you got to see your son."_

_ "I watch him about as much as I watch you," Arthur says, "but this was infinitely better."_

_ "We should go. He needs his rest."_

_ "One more hug?" Arthur asks, bending down to hug his son one more time. He kisses his cheek. "Love you. So much. I know you will make me proud."_

_ "I will, Daddy, I promise."_

_ "Guinevere," Arthur calls just as they are turning to leave._

_ "Hmm?"_

_ Arthur pulls her close into a half-hug and mutters in her ear, "I did ask about… you know."_

_ Gwen's blush tells him he knows what he's talking about._

_ "I was right. Frowned upon. Very, very frowned upon. As I thought."_

_ "Of course, it… makes sense."_

_ "What are you saying?" Llacheu demands, impatient and irritated at being left out._

_ "He's very inquisitive," Gwen says. "Nothing you need to worry about, my love," Gwen says, pecking Arthur's cheek once more._

_ "'Bye, Daddy," Llacheu waves. "I liked sitting in your lap."_

_ "Goodbye, my son. I will be watching over you. I love you," Arthur calls. He finds he cannot say it enough. _Probably because I did not hear it enough as a boy, _he reasons._

_ As Gwen and Llacheu walk to the door, Gwen looks down and says, "Now, Llacheu, listen to me please, because this is important." She waits, even stopping momentarily until she is sure she has his attention. "You must not tell anyone that you got to see your father. The only person that knows what this necklace does other than us is Uncle Merlin. Do you understand?"_

_ "I can tell Uncle Merlin?"_

_ "When you see him, yes. But no one else. Not even Sir Leon."_

_ "Yes, Mummy, I understand. Secret."_

xXx

"And our last order of business, my lady, is… Sir Percival?" Leon's eyebrows lift slightly, surprised.

Sir Percival steps forward, approaching his queen and friend as she sits on her throne. "My lady," he bows a quick bow. "I, um, seek your blessing to marry."

"Of course, Sir Percival," Gwen says brightly, a smile spreading across her face. "Lady Lorelle, I believe?"

"Yes, my lady," he says, unable to hide his smile. He looks down bashfully. "I have been courting her for some time, as you know, and…"

"Percival, you do not need to explain yourself. You have my blessing. I wish you both all the happiness in the world," she says, looking to the side of the room and smiling at a particular dark-haired maiden with a grin that matches her beloved's.

Gwen stands, then, pushing herself up on the arms of her throne. "My friend," she says, motioning that Percival should step closer. He does so, and she embraces him in a warm hug from her place two steps elevated.

Their faces nearly level, she whispers in his ear, "May you be as happy as Arthur and I were, and for much, much longer."

"Thank you, Gwen," Percival says quietly when she releases him. He steps back and she wobbles a moment, losing her balance.

"Sorry," he apologizes quickly, his arm reflexively shooting out to steady her just as Leon steps forward to do the same.

"I was closer to the edge than I thought," she says with a small, slightly embarrassed giggle. "When will you marry?" she asks.

"Around midsummer, we think."

"Very good."

"We wish to marry outdoors."

"Lovely," Gwen smiles. _I would have liked that myself, something simple, decorated by nature, witnessed by the birds._

As she sits again, few people notice the wistful sadness that crosses the queen's face, and those that do take note do not fault her.

Following the meeting Gwen walks back to her chambers with Leon.

"My lady, are you well?" Leon asks.

"Just a bit tired," she says with a sigh.

"Are you not sleeping well?"

"I… I think I am, yes. No one sleeps well all the time," she shrugs.

"I daresay Gwaine did," Leon chuckles. "That man could sleep standing on his feet. I saw him do it once."

Gwen chuckles, and takes a deep breath as though the walk is exhausting her.

"You work too hard, my lady. Perhaps you should have Gaius make you a sleeping draught."

"No, I'll be fine. I'll turn in after dinner tonight, I think."

Leon says nothing, and Gwen knows it is because he doesn't approve.

"I know what you're thinking, Leon, and I'm fine. Just need a few good solid nights' sleep."

They are just to her chamber doors and as Leon opens his mouth to argue some more, they are interrupted by the sound of running feet.

"Mum!"

"Llacheu, do not run in the – oof!" Gwen's scold is cut off as her son barrels into her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a tight hug. She staggers backwards.

"My lord, you should take care with your mother," Leon says, reprimanding, but gently. "You are getting so big and strong and she is, unfortunately, not going to get any bigger," he chuckles.

"Sorry, Mummy," Llacheu apologizes, stepping back.

"It's all right, Love, I enjoy your enthusiasm, but Sir Leon is right. You are getting big and you nearly knocked me over just then!" she says, smiling down at him and running her fingers into his hair.

"I brought you something," Llacheu says.

"My lady, young prince," Leon nods to them both, taking his leave. "Get some rest," he adds, raising his eyebrows at her, "please," he adds.

"What did you bring me?" Gwen says, entering her room with her son following.

"This!" he brandishes a small bunch of flowers he had tucked in his sleeve.

"Oh, Love, they are beautiful, thank you!" Gwen exclaims, taking the bundle.

"You're sad a lot, and I guess that's because of Daddy, even though you get to see him. I know you like flowers, so I picked these while I was out with Maxwell and Sir Bors."

"You did not pick them from someone's garden, did you?" she asks, but she somehow knows what his answer is going to be, and she steels herself.

"No, Mummy, they were growing by the side of the road."

"Well, they are lovely even so. You know Mummy likes this color," she says, her heart pounding now.

"Mummy, are you okay?"

"Yes, Love, I am just happy because you are so thoughtful to bring these for me," Gwen says, wiping an unwanted tear away.

"Mum?"

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

"Go on, then. See if cook has something to tide you until supper. You must be going to grow again," she says.

"I hope so!" he exclaims. He gives his mother another hug and then dashes out.

Gwen looks at the flowers in her hand, the stems nearly crushed as she grips them in her sweating palm. _Short stems, purple blossoms._ She walks over to a bookcase on the wall and reaches up for a thick book. She sets the flowers down on the table and opens the book with her trembling hand. The book opens to the center, and Gwen withdraws an almost-identical bunch, pressed flat between sheets of vellum now.

_These… are for you._ His voice haunts her.

He had presented the flowers, arm outstretched, slightly embarrassed as one flower's stem obviously hadn't survived its ordeal with the king and flopped over, sad and limp.

_They're not much I know, I… found them by the side of the road._

Gwen was surprised he admitted where he got them. He was the king, he could have gotten the most beautiful flowers in the kingdom, in abundance. He could have made a grand gesture, enlisted minstrels to write songs for her, presented her with fine silks.

But no. A small bunch of, frankly, pathetic little flowers that he picked himself was how he chose to apologize. And Gwen could not have loved him more for it.

_They're to say I'm sorry, Guinevere._

She was mad. Hurt. But she knew that he wasn't himself. Undergoing another crisis of identity, trying to find his footing, listening to the wrong advice. So she forgave him. She forgave him because she loved him and he loved her and he was just as sad and as beautiful as the little flowers he offered.

"Oh…" Gwen sighs shakily, setting the pressed flowers back in the book. She returns the book, her motions automatic, and places her son's flowers in a small glass vase and pours water in from a pitcher.

Then she clutches her crystal in her hand and crumples to the floor, sobbing as a wave of grief washes over her, piercingly sharp and new.


	9. Chapter 9

**Rec time: Please go read and follow "Triangle" by my friend faithlessducks. It is a compelling, funny, and sexy story. Go. Do.**

"Yes?" Gwen turns at the soft knock behind her.

"Excuse me, my lady, the prince left these behind on the training field and he will be looking for them tomorrow," Sir Leon says, stepping into the young prince's room, holding a pair of small leather gloves.

"Hi, Sir Leon," Llacheu greets the tall knight from his bed.

"Good evening, my lord," Leon nods, handing the gloves to Gwen. He smiles at the young prince. "All ready for bed, then?"  
"No, but Mum says it's time," he frowns, then betrays himself with a yawn while his fist comes up to rub an eye.

"I think your Mum is right," Leon says, smiling at Gwen. She gives a small smile in return, but keeps her attention mainly on the five-year-old boy in his bed.

"Goodnight, Llacheu," Leon says, reaching down to ruffle the boy's curls fondly.

"'Night, Sir Leon," he answers, snuggling into the blankets.

"My lady," he nods at Gwen and heads somewhat reluctantly out.

Gwen finishes the story she was telling Llacheu, the tale of how his father acquired the trident of the Fisher King, aided by his mysterious and seldom-seen godfather, Merlin, and another knight, Sir Gwaine. _I think I would like Sir Gwaine very much if he wasn't in Avalon with Daddy,_ Llacheu thinks, just assuming Gwaine is in Avalon as well.

"Where is the trident now, Mummy?"

"In the vaults, with all the other precious and important items your father acquired for the kingdom. Safe."

"I should like to see it," he yawns.

"Perhaps one day," she says, leaning down to kiss his forehead, then his cheek, then his cheek again, in a different place.

"Mum!" he protests, giggling as her lips approach his face again.

"Goodnight, my love," she says, smoothing his unruly hair back away from his forehead. _He looks so like Arthur, it makes my heart ache sometimes,_ she thinks sadly, glancing back at him one more time before blowing out the last candle.

"My lady," Leon's soft voice reaches her ears in the corridor once she's shut the door to the prince's rooms, "may I walk with you?"

"Of course," Gwen says, taking his offered arm. Leon notices she leans on him a bit more heavily than usual. _She works too hard._

They walk in silence for a few moments, but Gwen knows her knight has something on his mind. She staves it off. "You spend too much of your free time with the prince," she says carefully, "I appreciate your care, but surely you have other interests?"

"Nothing that is more important than being a good role model for the prince," he answers carefully. "With his father gone, I…" he trails off, knowing it is still a delicate topic.

"Yes, I know. He needs strong male guidance, and you and Percival both have been excellent in that area. But you mustn't neglect other people in your life. Your family, friends… perhaps a special lady that may have caught your eye?"

Leon says nothing at first. "I do not look after the prince out of a sense of obligation, my lady," he says carefully. "He's a good boy, and I like him. And… I do it for Arthur, to honor him. I want Arthur to be proud of his son, even if it is from the spirit world," he explains, and suddenly it occurs to Gwen that Arthur's death has affected Leon deeper than he ever let on, even after six years. "And besides, he's asked for extra training. I couldn't say no to _that,_ now, could I?"

"Of course not," Gwen says, smiling because she knows whose influence is behind her son's request.

"I really don't mind. I like working, you know that," Leon adds.

_He hides behind his rules and his structure, burying his grief by throwing himself into the one thing he knows better than anything else: being a knight,_ she thinks.

"As for my family and friends, well, as you know, most of my family is gone, and those that I consider my true friends understand," he continues.

"I see," Gwen says, noting that he does not mention a lady. "Forgive my prying, but with Percival getting married next week, I could not help but notice that you have somehow managed to elude matrimony all these years."

"Well, um, as far as female companionship goes…" he pauses and takes a deep breath. "There is one lady who I would look upon very favorably, if she would allow it," he says, stopping now, turning to face her. He looks down at her, his eyes hopeful pools of blue.

_I have suspected this for some time,_ Gwen thinks. She touches his arm gently. "Sir Leon, I am honored that you think of me so fondly. And flattered. And you know that you are dear to me, and I do love you."

"But?" he asks exhaling his held breath.

"But I cannot give you the kind of love you are seeking. The kind of love you deserve. Any fond feelings I have for you are… like those I would have for a brother. I'm sorry," she finishes with a whisper, dropping her hand and looking down.

"I understand," he says sadly.

"My capacity to give… _that_ kind of love died with Arthur," she says, still whispering, a tear slipping from her eye, her hand drifting up to finger the crystal hanging around her neck.

"Yes, my lady," Leon whispers, feeling a bit embarrassed now.

"Leon, do not feel foolish," Gwen says, sensing his discomfort. "You couldn't know, and you wouldn't know unless you asked. You are still my First Knight and my most trusted advisor, and I could not do any of this without you."

"Thank you, my lady."

"And I do love that you love Llacheu like he is your own. In the absence of his father, I could not ask for better role models for him than you and Percival," she says, touching his arm again.

"But that is all it can be," he says.

"Yes," Gwen whispers. "I'm—"

"Do not apologize again, please. I am glad that you can be honest with me, even if I do not like the answer," he says, straightening up again, ever chivalrous.

"I would like to retire to my rooms now," Gwen says, shifting gears. "Would you escort me, please?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lady."

"Leon, we have known each other nearly our entire lives. You _can_ call me Gwen."

"I know."

They walk the rest of the short way in a fairly comfortable silence. They know what has passed between them will go no further than the two of them; neither worry about gossip starting because one of them has spoken out of turn.

"Good night, my lady," Leon says quietly.

Gwen squeezes his arm before releasing it. She lifts up on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. "Good night, Sir Leon," she answers, then disappears into her room.

_Distance. He needs the distance. That is why he won't address me by name,_ Gwen realizes, leaning on the door. _I feel terrible for breaking his heart like that, but I am glad it is out now. And it would be cruel of me to lead him on when I do not feel as he does, just because I am lonely some nights._

Her head against the wood of the door, she hears Leon's footfalls as he finally walks away, to his own quarters within the castle.

xXx

_"Arthur, I'm so glad to see you tonight," Gwen says, practically hurling herself into his arms. "I need to see you tonight," she whispers against his chest._

_ "You are exhausted, my love," Arthur says, his arms tight around her._

_ "Not you, too," Gwen sighs. "Everyone seems to think I'm working too hard, that I'm exhausted, that something must be wrong. Do I look that terrible? Usually 'you look tired,' really means 'you look bad.' Arthur?"_

_ "There is some heaviness about your eyes, Guinevere. And your smiles are rarer, which isn't normal," Arthur answers honestly, running his finger along her cheek._

_ "Oh. Thank you for your honesty," she frowns, dropping her head against his chest._

_ "So why was it you needed to see me so urgently?" Arthur asks, kissing the top of her head._

_ "I just need you."_

_ "Nothing to do with Sir Leon confessing that he has been in love with you for years now?"_

_ She doesn't answer, but he feels her body sag against him. "Years?" she finally asks._

_ "Since before I was even dead, I think," Arthur chuckles. "Though he would never admit it to himself. I think he would be horrified, honestly. Now that I've been gone six years, maybe he decided it was a respectable enough amount of time."_

_ "Leon is nothing if not respectable," Gwen still stands against him, her head turned, her cheek on his chest._

_ "Guinevere, if you… if you wished to remarry, you… you could not do better than…"  
_

_"No, Arthur!" she interrupts him. "It wasn't just idle words I gave him when I told him that I did not think of him that way, that my heart will only ever desire you." She looks up at him, her face earnest. Then she looks down. "It would feel like another betrayal."_

_ Arthur is silent a minute. They had not spoken of the event since Arthur proposed the second time. "You did not betray me, Guinevere," he finally says, his voice quiet._

_ "Yes, Arthur, I did. Just because we agreed never to speak of it doesn't mean it didn't happen."_

_ "Guinevere, you never betrayed me. Not of your own free will, anyway."_

_ She leans back and looks up at him. "What?"_

_ "Your… kiss… with Lancelot. That was Morgana's doing."_

_ She steps back now. "What?" she asks, more emphatically this time._

_ "Lancelot is here, in Avalon. Merlin sent him here after he died. The second time. He… he sought me out recently and told me everything."_

_ Gwen's hands are clasped over her mouth now, in shock._

_ "I asked him if he would like to see you. He said no. Said he couldn't face you. Said he didn't deserve to look on you another time," Arthur tells her softly._

_ Gwen still says nothing, just watching Arthur, waiting and listening._

_ "Morgana brought him back from the other side using some dark and powerful magic. Fed him information. Told him how to act, what to say, what to do. He was her puppet as much as you were after the dark tower." She still says nothing, so he continues. "Morgana expected you to go running to him as soon as you saw him. But when you didn't, because you loved me and not him," Arthur pauses, smiling, tiny but smug, "she had to resort to stronger measures."_

_ "Do not cry, my love. I never could bear your tears," he says, reaching out to wipe her tears from her cheeks. "Lancelot gave you a bracelet?"_

_ "Yes," she whispers, astonished. She never mentioned the bracelet to Arthur. "It… it made me desire him?"_

_ Arthur nods. "It was all Morgana's doing, and she had to force you to do it. But ultimately it didn't work, and we found our way back to each other."_

_ "Our love is strong magic," she says, repeating his words from a visit four and a half years ago._

_ "Indeed. We found our way back and became stronger as a result. So she failed miserably."_

_ Gwen goes quiet again, even turning away from Arthur a moment. "That… bitch!" she finally says, hissing angrily. Arthur blinks in surprise at her harsh epithet. "I mean… to do something so… dishonorable…"  
_

_"She underestimated you, Love. You were beyond reproach, which is why she had to resort to the bracelet."_

_ "I was talking about Lancelot, actually," Gwen says, turning back to him. "To… sully the name and reputation of such an honorable man. Lancelot gave his life to free us from the Dorocha, and he never had an unkind word to say about anyone."_

_ "Nearly the same can be said of you, Guinevere," Arthur says. He feels no sense of jealousy or discomfort at her defense of Lancelot, and is acutely aware of the fact that, were they all still living, he would be sullen with jealousy at her words. "You did not give your life for Camelot, but you, too, are honorable and brave. Morgana took two of the most inherently good people in Camelot and dragged both their names and reputations through the mud. The very fact that she would even think of such a plan makes my blood run cold. If it wasn't already cold, I mean."_

_ Gwen snorts a surprised laugh, despite herself. _He always could make me laugh at the most inappropriate times. _Finally, she sighs. "You are right. It doesn't matter anymore. It didn't work and we grew stronger and closer and now I am sitting on what she always referred to as her throne."_

_ "Right," Arthur says, reaching out for her again, pulling her close. "So you're not interested in Sir Leon, then?"_

_ "No!" she exclaims, exasperated._

_ "Good."_

_ "But I thought you said…"  
_

_"Well, I would have been_ okay _with it, and if you would be happy, then that's what important. I didn't say I loved the idea. I only want you to be happy, my love."_

_ He bends his head down and kisses her, sucking lightly at her lips, nipping the lower one gently. "I do so love these lips of yours," he whispers, kissing her top lip, then the bottom, very deliberately._

_ "It's time," he sighs, resting his forehead against hers._

_ "Already?"_

_ He nods, moving both their heads, and kisses her one more time._

_ "Tell Lancelot that I am sorry," Gwen says._

_ "For what? I mean, that's what he'll ask."_

_ "I don't know. I just feel like I should apologize," she shrugs._

_ "He told me to tell you the same thing," Arthur chuckles. "I told him he was mad. He's really a good guy. I mean, I always knew he was a good knight, but I was too busy being jealous of him to really get to know him as a person."_

_ "Jealous? Were you that insecure, or did you doubt my feelings?"_

_ "I was that insecure," he admits. "I know that now."_

_ "Well, I love you, Arthur, even in death. Always have; no one else. I love you so much that there is nothing left in my heart for any living man. Not even for the ridiculously gallant and seemingly indestructible Sir Leon."_

_ "Well, you love our son, obviously," Arthur points out._

_ "Different kind of love, silly."_

_ "Right."_

_ "With all my heart, Arthur, remember?" she asks._

xXx

There is a soft knock at Gwen's door while she sits, picking at her breakfast. "Yes?" she calls, and a smiling face pokes his head in.

"Hi."

"Merlin!" Gwen says, turning in her chair. "Come in," she says, standing to embrace her friend. "This is an unexpected surprise, we just saw you a week ago for the prince's birthday. It's not like you return so quickly."

"I must be losing my touch," he says, smiling a lopsided smile.

"Come sit, have some food," Gwen motions, sitting again and pushing her plate over.

Merlin sits, setting a large parcel down on the floor beside him.

"I can't take your breakfast, Gwen," he says, trying to push it back.

"I'm done. Don't let it go to waste."

"Gwen, you've barely eaten anything." He looks closely at her. "You're not well."

"I'm just a little tired these days," Gwen huffs. "Why does everyone think I'm ill?"

"That wasn't a question, Gwen. You are not well. I am telling you this."

She opens her mouth a moment, then closes it. "Where is Sefa?" she asks.

"Don't change the subject. I want you to see Gaius as soon as you can."

"Fine," she sighs. "Now eat, and tell me where Sefa is. She is supposed to be with you."

"She is. Just not at the moment. And yes, I know exactly where she is, and _yes,_ I trust that she will not run off. She's with Aithusa."

"The little white dragon? You found her?"

"Yes," Merlin smiles. "Though not so little anymore. You should see the two of them. Aithusa… I'm slowly learning about her. She doesn't speak, so it's difficult, but I think Morgana managed to build an innate distrust of men in her. She obeys me because she must, but she trusts Sefa. I don't think she quite trusts me yet."

"That's… really good, Merlin. How is Sefa?"

"She is good. A lot smarter than I think any of us realized. Her father held her back in many ways. She is so innocent, it's almost like she's an empty vessel, waiting to be filled with knowledge and skills. She has this… bond with Aithusa."

Gwen listens, enjoying watching Merlin consume the rest of her breakfast. _He always had such enthusiasm for food,_ she remembers, and she also understands why.

"Finding Aithusa was not a problem," Merlin continues, his mouth full of food. "All I had to do was call her, and she came. But she shrank away, cowering, until Sefa stepped forward. She spoke gently to her, assuring her that I wouldn't harm her." He looks up, and Gwen passes him her goblet. "Thank you." He takes a drink and continues.

"It… hurts a little, you know? I brought Aithusa into the world, I named her, and she is skittish around me. I am kind to her and treat her well, but I am firm with her. I… she respects me as a dragonlord, and I think, in her way, she loves me, but…"

"She is warmer with Sefa, more affectionate? Friendlier?" Gwen asks.

Merlin nods. "I'm jealous. I'm the dragonlord, yet Sefa has charmed the dragon."

Gwen smiles at him. "It sounds like you are doing everything right, Merlin. Aithusa will come around. Try to think of it from her point of view: she probably fears you because she knows you could make her do _anything,_ and, as you said, Morgana probably colored her opinions of men, perhaps even you, once she found out your true identity. Keep trying. She will come around."

"Thanks, Gwen. That means a lot, coming from you."

"Me?"

"You're a mother. I feel kind of parental towards Aithusa, and so your words are encouraging."

"So Sefa is with Aithusa now? Where are they? Can I see Aithusa?"

"They are in a clearing not far from here. The place where I took you to meet Kilgarrah."

"You could have brought them closer," Gwen says, frowning.

"I didn't want to frighten anyone. Sefa is trying to teach Aithusa how to talk," he chuckles. "It's very interesting."

"I can imagine," Gwen says.

"Where's the Bug?" Merlin asks, pushing the empty plate away.

"Training, of course. Why?"

"I have something for him, but he can't have it right now."

"Is that what _that_ is?" she asks, nodding at the parcel.

"Yeah," he says, reaching down and picking it up, clearing a space on the table.

"Is that a sword?" Gwen asks, noting the size and shape.

Merlin chuckles. "Still a blacksmith's daughter," he says, unwrapping the cloth.

Gwen gasps. "That's not…"

"No," Merlin says. "It's not Arthur's. Arthur's is in the lake, waiting. It's being looked after by a friend of mine." His eyes get distant and wistful for a moment, but Gwen does not ask.

He withdraws the sword from its sheath, and the blade practically sings when he lifts it into the air.

"It's beautifully crafted, Merlin. Where did you get it?"

"Mercia. I spent some time there, and one day I was… drawn to the blacksmith's shop. The smith there reminded me of your father, actually," he chuckles, "burly but kind, with an easy smile. I asked him for his finest sword, something out of the ordinary. His best work."

"Like you did for… Merlin, Arthur's sword. My father made that, didn't he? That was the one I gave you."

He nods. "I had Kilgarrah forge the blade further in his breath, blessing it with his powerful magic."

"Then how did Arthur…?"

"Mordred's blade was similarly made. Morgana had Aithusa, remember? And Arthur still managed to run Mordred through with his sword, and I dispatched Morgana with it. This sword," he holds it up again, "is also forged in a dragon's breath. For Llacheu, when he is of age."

"Merlin, I don't know…" Gwen says, uneasy. "Aithusa's magic on Mordred's sword killed Arthur…"

"Then is it not fitting that she make amends for that deed in the only way that she can?" He turns the sword, offering Gwen the handle.

She hesitantly takes it.

"If it helps, Aithusa did not want to do it again," he says, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "She hesitated. She knows what happened, how the last blade she burnished was used. Like Sefa, she was an innocent pawn, bent to the will of another. I spoke to Aithusa gently, telling her that she would be helping Arthur's son. 'I will not command you to do this, Aithusa,' I said. 'But I will ask you, as your guardian and your friend, to bless this blade for the only son of Arthur Pendragon and good Queen Guinevere.' She nodded then, and let her fire loose on it."

"Where was Sefa when this happened? Did she help convince Aithusa?"

"She was there, but I asked her not to intervene, not to help. This was something that I needed to do. And Aithusa, I think gained a little trust in me then, knowing that I won't force her to do anything she doesn't want to. Not without reason, anyway."

"You sound like a father," Gwen smiles approvingly. "And I don't know how to wield a sword very well, but I know fine smithing when I see it." She stands, sits again quickly, then stands again, more slowly, and sheaths the sword. Merlin gives her a look.

"Yes, I will see Gaius this afternoon," she sighs.

Merlin nods and wraps the sword up again. "Not until he is of age," he reminds her, handing it to her.

"Yes, yes, I remember. I will keep it safe for him. Maybe entrust it to Leon for safekeeping."

"You have a council meeting," Merlin says. "I'm going to watch the training and surprise the prince."


	10. Chapter 10

Queen Guinevere has been bedridden for a week and a half. Despite Gaius' best efforts, her health has been on a very slow decline for the past seven years. She started sleeping later into the mornings. Her appetite decreased. Her mind is still as sharp as ever and she is still not one to be trifled with, but after a year or so she would not walk anywhere unescorted for fear of losing her balance and falling.

_"It's your heart, Gwen," Gaius had told her after several days' worth of testing and study, including involving Merlin and his unique skill set. "It's very weak. It is working harder than it should for a woman your age."_

_ "What exactly does that mean, Gaius?" she had asked, strangely calm about the news._

_ "In simple terms, the heart pumps blood throughout your body, keeping it alive. Your heart is… getting lazy. It is too hard for it to do its job, so it doesn't want to do it anymore."_

_ "I see…" she said, looking down at her hands. "Is that why my hands and feet are always so cold?"_

_ "Could be. If your blood is having trouble getting to them, they would be cold."_

_ Gwen nodded._

_ "Gwen, you seem very… calm about this," Gaius noted, curious._

_ "Is there anything that you can do?" she asked knowingly._

_ "Not really," he admitted._

_ "Then there's no sense in wailing and tearing my hair out over it, is there?"_

_ "Perhaps Merlin…"_

_ "No, Gaius. I will not ask that of him again. It takes too much from him."_

_ "He would do it for you."_

_ "I know that. All the more reason why I don't want him to. He need not risk his own life for mine."_

_ "You are the queen," Gaius reminded her._

_ "And he is a great sorcerer. I will not place greater value on one life over another, Gaius. You know this about me," she chided gently._

_ "I do," he nodded. "And that is one of the reasons why you are such a good queen, my lady."_

Leon and Percival have already started taking turns running the council and round table meetings. Gwen's official parchments are brought to her on a tray for her to sign from her bed.

Guinevere, Queen of Camelot, is dying.

xXx

"Leon, you must rule as regent until Llacheu is of age. You are the only one who can. You are the only one I trust to do this. I want you and Mithian to be his guardians." She places the seal in Leon's palm, closing his long-fingered hand around it, both her hands on either side of his fist.

"We will take good care of him, my lady. We will treat him like one of our own," Leon promises softly.

A year after Leon had declared himself to Guinevere, Princess Mithian returned to Camelot for a visit. It was right around the prince's sixth birthday, and Leon and Percival and some of the other knights were going to take him on his first hunting trip. Mithian asked to accompany them on the hunt, even presenting Llacheu with her birthday gift to him: a small crossbow.

Gwen never did find out exactly what happened on that hunt, but when they returned they had three quail, one large boar and Leon and Mithian could not keep their eyes off of one another. Gwen supposed that in private, they also could not keep their hands off of one another, because they both seemed to be walking around the castle with ridiculous grins on their faces.

They were married two months later, and Mithian came to live in Camelot, stating that Leon's duties to the queen were much more important than her duties as third in line to the throne of Nemeth behind her two older brothers. So she settled in as a very excellent lady-in-waiting to the queen and finally got the deep and cherished love she had so longed for.

"Gwen, you are not dying," Mithian says, taking her hand. "I understand your need to have things accounted for, but you are too young. You'll get better, I know it."

Gwen smiles. "Ever so optimistic. My heart is very weak, Mithian, you know this. You've heard Gaius. It's as if my heart were the heart of someone much older. It just cannot keep up with me anymore."

"You are so at peace with this," Mithian shakes her head in disbelief.

"What choice do I have? There is nothing that can be done."

"We can send for Merlin," Leon suggests. "He saved you once…"

"No, Leon. You may not understand this, but… I don't want Merlin to heal me again. It takes too much out of him. And besides, I… I think it's too close to my time. To save me now might have dire consequences for someone else. There's a rule: a life for a life."

"But Llacheu…"

"Llacheu is the only thing that has kept me alive as long as I have. Had I not found out that I was carrying him so soon after Arthur died…" she pauses, taking a few breaths to catch up, "I likely would have walked into the Lake of Avalon and not looked back."

"You wouldn't have," Leon says, not believing her words.

"I don't know, Leon, wouldn't I have? But he is nearly thirteen years old, and… taller than me already," she chuckles, remembering how keen he always was about getting taller than her. "He still needs me, yes, but… I just…" She closes her eyes.

"Gwen?" Mithian asks, alarmed, leaning over her and clasping her hand again.

"I'm all right," Gwen sighs. "Just tired."

"You are ready to be with Arthur," Mithian realizes finally.

Gwen nods.

"When he told me about you, when he told me that he could not marry me because of you…" Mithian starts.

"I am sorry for that," Gwen says.

"Don't be; I'm not. I was hurt, initially, yes, but then I became curious. I desperately wanted to know who it was that had so completely ensnared his heart, that even in banishment he could not consider another."

"So you know about that? The banishment?"

"Leon has told me, yes. It must have been awful."

"It was," Gwen says, elaborating no further. _She doesn't need to know the real truth about the betrayal. There's no point now._ "I can't believe we're only just now talking about this," she adds with a small chuckle.

"Funny, isn't it? But then when I met you for the first time, I so wanted to dislike you. To be cold, petty. You know, like a normal Lady would be," she jokes, and Gwen chuckles a little. They often joke about the fact that neither one of them are what one would consider a _normal_ Lady. "But then I met you and you were so kind, so… free from any rancor or ill will, and you could have treated me horribly for trying to marry your beloved Arthur."

"It was not your fault, you did not know. Besides, what would the point in that be?" Gwen asks softly.

Mithian smiles. "And then I saw the two of you together, saw how he loved and trusted you. The love you shared was almost a tangible thing, a… a bubble around the two of you. And I knew that he had made the right decision in turning me away. Yes, I was jealous, but I wasn't jealous of you. I was jealous of what the two of you had."

"And now you have it," Gwen says, looking up at Leon. "And that is precisely why I want you to be Llacheu's guardians. He loves you like family already anyway."

"We are honored, Gwen," Mithian says. "And he loves our little Edeva like a sister anyway," she adds, smiling with the thought of their four-year-old daughter.

"And Percival and Lorelle have their hands full already," Leon chuckles. "What are they up to now, five?"

"All boys, too. I daresay he's singlehandedly making certain that Camelot will have plenty of big, strong knights for years to come," Gwen says, laughing a little, but the laughter turns quickly to coughing, and she sits up, pressing her handkerchief over her mouth. It comes away with a few drops of blood on it, but no one makes mention.

There is a soft knock at the door, and Gwen nods, so Leon bids them enter, knowing Gwen cannot raise her voice. Llacheu slips quietly in, closing the door gently behind him.

"How is she?" he asks Leon quietly.

"A little worse, I think," Leon answers, his eyes sad.

"She's also right here and can hear you," Gwen says tiredly.

"We'll go now, give you some time with your son," Mithian says, standing and taking Leon's hand, leading him gently from the room.

"Llacheu, my love," Gwen smiles at her son, on the cusp of manhood, already taller than his mother, his muscles just starting to gain definition, his voice recently deeper.

"I was just in the gardens with Gaius, and I saw the lavender was blooming, so I brought you some," he says, brandishing a bunch of lavender. She motions for him to bring it closer and he obliges, holding it down so she can smell it.

"Mmm, thank you," she sighs.

He places the bunch on the table, forages around the room until he finds something to put it in, returning with a tin mug. "Good enough," he declares, pouring some water in and putting the flowers in, setting it on her bedside table. Gwen watches him, noting that he is already starting to move with the same easy, masculine grace that his father possessed, no doubt built from so much sword training.

"I'll have you know I risked my life to bring you those flowers," he says, sitting in the chair recently vacated by Mithian.

"Come up here, Love," Gwen pats the bed. He crawls up and she weakly attempts to pull him into her arms. He gets the idea and cuddles against her, his head on her shoulder, reaching up to touch her necklace once, just out of habit. "How did you risk your life, exactly?"

"It was covered in bees. Big, fuzzy, surprisingly noisy bumblebees," he says. "I watched them for a bit, listening to Gaius explain what they're doing. Then I borrowed his shears and cut some stems for you. Carefully. Staying away from the bees."

Gwen chuckles. _What is it with Pendragon men and stinging insects? First Arthur and his "wasp" that I'm convinced wasn't really there, now Llacheu and his killer bumblebees._ "Darling, bumblebees are fairly harmless."

"Can they sting?"

"Well, yes, but they only do so if you attack their nest or if they're really, really upset. I don't think you had anything to worry about."

"Oh."

"Sorry," she chuckles, coughing after. Llacheu looks up at her in slight alarm, but she waves him off. "I didn't intend to ruin your story of how you risked life and limb to bring me flowers."

"It's all right. I learned something anyway, so that's good."

"It's a good story, though, you should save it and use it again some time. When you are older, perhaps on a maiden…" she teases.

"Mother…" he protests mildly. He leans his head on her chest now. "I can hear your heart. It… it sounds like it's working too hard," he says suddenly. "Or maybe I just think it does because I know it is," he sighs.

Gwen raises her hand to her son's head, toying idly with his curls. She kisses the top of his head.

"Mum?"

"Yes, my love?"

"This is stupid. I'm bigger than you," he moves, quickly but carefully, and pulls her into his arms now.

Gwen smiles, resting her head on his already-broad shoulder. "Llacheu, when I am gone…"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"You're not talking, I am. You are listening."

"Yes, Mum."

"I want you to take your father's crystal. I want you to have it. You'll probably need Uncle's help to get it, though."

"Why?"

"The chain has no clasp. I never take it off because I can't. He made it into a necklace for me with his magic."

"You wouldn't take it off even if you could."

"True." She closes her eyes. "Listen to me now."

"Yes, Mum."

"Leon and Mithian are going to be your guardians."

"Mum…"

"Just listen. I know you don't want to hear any of this, but you need to."

He sighs.

"Leon will be in charge until you are of age. I've already given him the royal seal because I cannot rule even now. You will listen to him and Mithian. I know they're not me, but they know me well and know my wishes."

"Why can't Uncle be my guardian?"

"Because Uncle cannot seem to keep his backside in one place for any amount of time," Gwen sighs. "And her already has Sefa and a dragon to worry about. And Gaius is too old. You'd be the death of him."

Llacheu laughs a little, because he knows it to be true.

"Now, this is the important part," Gwen says. "When you marry, do so for love. There will be people trying to tell you that you should choose a wife for political purposes, for alliances, for strategy. Do not listen to them. We are a united Albion now, so hopefully there won't be a need for such antiquated practices. If you fall in love with a princess, then marry a princess. If you fall in love with a maid…"

"Like you were," he interrupts.

"Yes, like I was, then marry her. I can't promise it will be all roses, but if the love is true, then it is worth it."

"How… how will I know if it is true?"

"You will."

"What does it feel like?"

"Always full of questions," she says, looking up at him a moment. "It is both the most wonderful and most painful thing in the world, often simultaneously."

"Huh?"

"It feels so lovely that it hurts. When you are with your love, you feel whole. Complete. Like part of you that you didn't realize was gone had been returned to you. When you are apart, it feels like your love has taken your heart along with, leaving you with a hole right _here,_" she pokes his chest.

"Wow. That's how you feel about Father?"

"And he about me, yes. I wish that kind of love for you, my son. Though hopefully without the obstacles your father and I had to overcome to be together, obviously."

"Like Grandfather."

"Like your grandfather, yes. Oh, speaking of – did you get your things moved?"

"About done. Everything's in. I just need to figure out where I want everything. Grandfather's rooms are so _big._"

"Well, he was the king. And you will be, too, one day."

"I think I need more stuff."

"You always think you need more stuff," Gwen mutters, closing her eyes again.

"Mum, you need to rest," he says, slipping out from beneath her and tucking the blanket up over her shoulder. "Are you warm enough?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nods, not opening her eyes.

Llacheu bends down and kisses her cheek. "Love you, Mum."

"I love you, my Llacheu."

xXx

_"Guinevere…"_

_ "Don't use that tone with me, Arthur, I've been telling you for years now."_

_ "You need to stay alive."_

_ "I can't anymore. I told you: Gaius said that my heart is less healthy than his, and he's got to be 200 years old!"_

_ Arthur laughs in spite of himself, and wraps her in his arms. "It's too soon."_

_ "Llacheu will be well taken care of. So will Camelot," she whispers. "I've got everything in place."_

_ "You won't reconsider asking Merlin for help?" he tries again._

_ "No. I'm too far gone, Arthur. Someone else may have to pay the price for my life, and I cannot have that on my conscience."_

_ "I'm so torn," Arthur finally admits, his cheek coming to rest on the top of her head. "I've always been torn. Selfish Arthur wants to whisk you through that door," he nods behind him, "into Avalon and make up for thirteen years of lost time. Noble Arthur wants to order your beautiful backside back to Camelot and tell you to go finish being queen until you are old and gray and Llacheu is on the throne."_

_ "I don't think it is your choice, Love," Gwen says, tilting her head up to kiss his neck._

"My lady?" Lily touches Gwen's shoulder lightly. "My lady?" she calls louder, prodding a little less gently. "Oh no…" she gasps, running to the door. "Sir… Sir Knight," she says to the guard outside, not knowing his name. "I cannot wake the queen! Where is Gaius?"

"I will fetch him immediately," the guard says, taking off down the corridor.

_"I just wish, for Llacheu…" Arthur says._

_ "I do, too. He's an amazing boy, Arthur, and I'm not just saying this because I'm his mother. Everyone loves him. He has your charisma."_

_ "And your charm," Arthur says, kissing her forehead, "and your kindness," he kisses her cheek, "and your wisdom."_

_ "And a touch of your arrogance and temper at times," Gwen says, smiling against Arthur's lips._

_ "You told him to take this?" Arthur asks quietly, reaching down and touching her necklace much in the same way Llacheu did earlier that same day._

_ "Yes. He would probably insist on it anyway, but I wanted to make sure that he got it."_

_ "He's taller than you now?"_

_ "Arthur, he was as tall as me when you last saw him," Gwen reminds him. Llacheu had asked to see his father again for his tenth birthday present, saying he did not want anything else._

_ "That's right," Arthur grins. "My tiny bride."_

"Her time is fast approaching, I'm afraid," Gaius says. "Sir Leon, where is Sir Percival? He will want to be here."

"No doubt having dinner with his family," Leon says. "I will have him sent for." He walks to the chamber doors and speaks to the guards outside, dispatching one of them to Percival's house before quickly returning to the queen's bedside. He holds Mithian tightly, and she is not sure if it is to support her or himself.

_"Arthur," Gwen whispers, "I can see your door again."_

_ Arthur sighs and squeezes her tighter. Gwen feels his breathing grow unsteady and she realizes that he's crying. Crying over her death._

_ "Don't cry, Love," she says, tears welling in her own eyes now. "You know that if you cry, I cry."_

_ "I'm so confused. I'm crying because you're dying. Your beautiful light that was finally there for all to see is getting extinguished too early. But I'm also crying because I finally get to be with you for all eternity."_

_ "Selfish Arthur," she says, smiling at him, trying to stop his tears. She notices the light shifting, and turns to look behind her. "My door is closing."_

_ "I can see it," Arthur says, burying his face in her hair, tucking it into her neck. "You still smell the same as always," he says, almost absentmindedly, inhaling deeply. "My favorite scent ever: the sweet smell of my wife's neck."_

_ "You don't feel cold anymore," Gwen says._

_ "Are you afraid?"_

_ "No. Just… hold me. Please."_

_ Arthur holds her gently but securely to his chest, waiting, watching as the door to the world of the living slowly closes._

_ There is a faint click._

_ Gwen sighs._

_ Arthur's chest heaves in a single, silent sob, and then he releases his breath, shakily._

_ After what could either be moments or hours, Arthur loosens his grip on her and looks down at her. Gwen reaches up, wipes his cheeks with her thumbs, and kisses his lips lightly._

_ Without a word, he sweeps her up into his arms, kisses her deeply, and carries her through the door, into the lush green of Avalon beyond._

_ "Thirteen years to make up for, my love…" he says, his voice a seductive promise._

xXx

"She's… smiling," Leon gasps. "Is she…"

Gaius leans in and touches Gwen's neck gently, feeling for a pulse. "No. She's gone," he whispers, turning to face the young prince and seeing silent tears streaming down the boy's face. Llacheu gives Gaius a very small, very regal, very mature nod.

Leon looks down at the royal seal in his palm, a tear slipping from his eye, his queen's final request to him ringing in his ears. _"Leon, you must rule as regent until Llacheu is of age. You are the only one who can. You are the only one I trust to do this. I want you and Mithian to be his guardians."_ He puts the seal on his finger and reaches over to take his wife's hand again. Mithian is weeping softly into a handkerchief.

"She's smiling because she's with Arthur again," Merlin's voice from the doorway startles them all, and they all spin and face him.

"Uncle," Llacheu chokes, running to Merlin, who hugs him.

"You've gotten so big," Merlin whispers. He releases his crying godson and goes to Gaius, squeezing his shoulder.

"Merlin," Gaius greets him. He has learned to never be surprised at when his former ward may appear.

"You are getting gray," Gaius comments.

"And you are getting bald," Merlin shoots back.

"Where is Sefa?" Gaius asks quietly.

"With Aithusa, in the clearing where I used to meet Kilgarrah," he says. He looks down at Gwen and sighs. "Still as beautiful as ever. She never seemed to age," he whispers, seeing not a single gray hair on her head as he strokes her cheek with his finger, the skin still firm and soft. But cold now, cold as stone.

"I've just heard, am I…?" Percival pushes into the room now, skidding to a stop when he sees their faces. "I'm too late," he exhales, looking down at Gwen.

"I'm sorry, Percival," Merlin says, turning.

"Hello, Merlin," Percival greets the wizard, nodding respectfully at him. "Your highness," he adds, nodding to Llacheu before quickly turning his face away to wipe an errant tear.

"Sir Percival, thank you for coming," the prince says quietly. "My mother would have appreciated it."

"Merlin?" Leon asks.

"I've come to take Gwen to be with Arthur in Avalon," Merlin answers Leon's unasked question.

"Good," Llacheu sniffs, surprising all of them. "She should be with Father," he nods, his face serious.

Merlin gazes down at the boy, shaking his head in disbelief. _Always so serious, so solemn. I hope he has friends, has time for fun._ "You look so like your father, Llacheu, it is almost frightening."

"Mother used to say that. She would say that except for my skin and hair, I was my father reborn."

"But with your mother's wisdom," Gaius adds, and Leon nods in agreement.

"Uncle," Llacheu studies his mother's face, then looks at Merlin. "Will Mother be happy now?"

"Llacheu, your mother wasn't unhappy," Merlin explains.

"She was always so sad, though."

"There is a difference between being sad and being unhappy, Bug. Your mother carried the sadness of loss with her, but she was not an unhappy person. In fact, you are the one person, the one thing in this world that could bring her any joy. You may carry that with you always: The knowledge that you were the sun in your mother's day, the moon in her night."

Llacheu nods solemnly. "Uncle, her crystal…" he points at the crystal still hanging at her bosom.

"Ah, _its_ fate is up to you," Merlin says. He leans over and lifts the crystal into his hand, closing his fist around it. He closes his eyes and the chain disappears. Merlin withdraws his hand and opens his fist, holding it down for Llacheu to see.

Resting on his palm are now two crystals, joined side by side.

"That's them? Both now?" Llacheu whispers.

Merlin nods. "I can return this crystal to the cave, or I can entrust it to you. The choice is yours, child."

"I should like to have it," Llacheu answers.

"Llacheu, I'm not sure that's a good idea," Leon says gently. "What happens if you misplace it?"

"Mother wants me to have it! She told me so! And I won't misplace it, Leon!" Llacheu answers sharply, his father's temper appearing. He sniffs and wipes his face angrily.

"Leon, I can ensure that he won't lose it," Merlin says. "But it may sting a little," he warns the boy.

"Do it," Llacheu snaps, looking defiantly at Leon.

"It is permanent," Merlin cautions.

"Even better," Llacheu lifts his chin.

_Oh, child, you are so your father sometimes,_ Merlin thinks, glancing at Gaius to see the old man having much the same thought.

"Perhaps we should wait till morning, you know, think about it overnight," Percival recommends, and Leon nods.

"No," Llacheu says, "do it now."

"It's all right, Percival. Trust me," Merlin says, glancing reassuringly at Leon as well.

"What do I need to do?" Llacheu says, stepping over.

"Take your shirt off," Merlin says, and the boy complies immediately.

Merlin puts the twin crystal in his hand and presses his palm to the boy's chest, over his heart. "Close your eyes," Merlin says, very softly. "Think of your mother, how much you love her. Think of your father, how much you would have loved to have known him."

Llacheu closes his eyes, and a moment later a few fresh tears spring from the corners of his eyes. Merlin closes his own eyes and presses harder, bringing his other hand around, holding the boy's back. He whispers a few words and his eyes open with a flash, and Llacheu gasps sharply.

"Ow," he mutters, opening his eyes.

"Sorry," Merlin says, and withdraws his hand. On the boy's chest is a black symbol, tattooed over his heart: three dots with three rays extending downward and outward, vaguely triangular.

"Oh…" Llacheu breathes, looking down at it awkwardly, then running to his mother's vanity to look in her mirror. "Wow, Uncle. Will that be there forever?" he asks, his voice awed.

"Yes," Merlin says. "You carry your parents' love with you now, for always."

"It won't wash off?" he blinks at it, poking it.

"No. It is part of you."

"Does this mean that they'll visit me when I sleep sometimes?" he asks, his eyes hopeful. He doesn't see the look of realization that passes over Leon's face as he remembers Gwen telling him that that crystal was Arthur's heart.

_I had assumed she misspoke. Perhaps she hadn't,_ he realizes.

"That is up to them," Merlin says. "Though I can't imagine your mother will be able to stay away," he smiles.

"When?" Llacheu asks, still fingering the tattoo on his chest. He doesn't seem to be interested in putting his shirt back on at all. "Wait, she told me once… she never knew when she would see him. So I guess I should be patient?"

"Yes," Merlin nods.

"I hate being patient," Llacheu grumbles.

"That is your father," Gaius chimes in from the background, and Merlin chuckles, nodding.

"Uncle?"

"Yes, Bug?"

"Thank you," he says, smiling sadly.

xXx

The next morning, the people of Camelot have gathered, lining the streets to see their beloved queen off, to bid her farewell as the mysterious Merlin takes her to Avalon to be with King Arthur.

Her body rests on pillows and flower petals in a small wagon that will follow Merlin, and she is dressed in her finest gown. Her head is unadorned by any circlet or crown, flowers in her hair instead, as she would have preferred. Merlin has a silk sheet with which to shroud and protect her once they are out of the lower town and into the wilderness, but for now, she is uncovered, beautiful and still.

Llacheu approaches the wagon and bends over his mother, kissing her forehead. "Go be with Father," he whispers, "and do not worry about me. I know you will be watching me, and I will do you proud. I hope to see you both soon, when I sleep."

He straightens up and turns to face Merlin, his glassy blue eyes looking up at him. "You will be coming back?" he asks, but somehow Merlin feels that this is not a request.

"Yes, but I do not know when," Merlin sighs, cupping the boy's face in his hand.

"Please, Uncle, you must come back after you take Mother to Avalon. Come back to stay," Llacheu says, nearly begging. "Sefa and your dragon can come, too, I don't care."

Merlin opens his mouth and inhales as though he is going to answer, but then he gives up and closes his mouth. He feels the boy's hand clasp his.

"I need you, Merlin," Llacheu whispers.

Merlin blinks, and something mends in his broken heart. _Those are the words I have been missing,_ he realizes. He studies the boy, and sees the face of the young prince he encountered in the street nearly twenty-five years ago, just slightly darker and with a mop of unruly brown curls perched over it. "I'll come back immediately, to stay," he answers, and a tear slips from the corner of his eye even as he smiles at the prince.

Llacheu hugs him, suddenly and fiercely, then turns back to stand beside Gaius. Merlin turns and starts out from the citadel. He waves his hand and the wagon starts moving. Sir Leon and Sir Percival follow, ever the queen's royal guards, as Merlin walks slowly from the courtyard and into the lower town.

The people throw flowers and kisses. Most everyone is at least dabbing at their eyes. Merlin turns and looks at Gwen's empty old house when they pass it to see the front door made impassable by the flowers heaped there.

He keeps moving, not stopping until he is well outside of town. He turns and looks at the two knights.

"Thank you for protecting her and helping her," Merlin says simply, waving his hand over the wagon, and the lavender silk covers her now.

"We loved her as much as you did, Merlin," Percival says, the words difficult for him. Leon can only nod, his wet eyes on the form beneath the silk.

"I will be fine from here, thank you again," Merlin says, dismissing them gently.

"Thank _you,_ Merlin," Leon whispers.

Merlin nods and turns away, taking his friend and his queen to be with her husband and king.

Leon and Percival stand and watch, their eyes fixed on Merlin's retreating back until they can no longer see him.

xXx

An old, lone figure watches from a parked car as she steps out of Starbuck's, Gingerbread Latte clutched in her left hand, her right hand digging in her large shoulder bag for her car keys, head down.

"Must have fallen to the bottom," she mutters, her mind on her Christmas shopping.

"Look out!" a male voice shouts, and she feels a strong hand on her elbow, pulling her back from the curb just as she is about to step out.

Out and into the path of a pickup truck that is driving way too fast for a parking lot.

"Oh!" she exclaims, feeling a broad, solid body behind her back. Even through her puffy down-filled coat she can tell that her hero is in quite good shape.

"That was close," he says, his hands at her elbows as she turns to face him. "He was going entirely… too… fas…"

"Yes, and I should have been watching… where…"

She looks up. Blue-grey meets translucent brown, and the world around them disappears: the snow, the traffic, the other people. They are aware only of each other and the web of electricity crackling all around them.

At least it seems that way.

"Hi," she breathes, her shiny glossed lips parting invitingly.

"Hello," he whispers back, his eyes dropping momentarily to those lips, those luscious, _familiar_ lips.

"I know you," she says, blinking at him. She notes briefly that his arms are still around her.

He nods his head, just barely, his eyes soft, glowing. He reaches down and strokes her cheek with a single finger. "Guinevere," he whispers.

She reaches her hand out and gives her latte to a random passerby. "Take me home, Arthur," she answers.

End

**A/N I am contemplating a sequel, before any of you start making demands.**


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